


Tarnished Silver

by DeikaKanna



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Feels, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Comic/Mythology bastardisation, Graphic content ... kind of?, Hurt, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Manipulation, Odin's A+ Parenting, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spoilers - Thor the Dark World, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Violence, Voyeurism, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2135928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeikaKanna/pseuds/DeikaKanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mortally wounded and already believed dead by his brother, Loki makes his way to Midgard and seeks aid from an unlikely source.<br/>Now he has five days to win over Tony Stark’s trust. But what started as a lie quickly  becomes something more, a truth neither of them were expecting.<br/>---<br/>He couldn't explain, even to himself, why he'd done it. How do you put into words something that passes through the mind between one heartbeat and the next? How can something so vast and unfathomable and true, be described and given reason in something as clumsy as language? There was no why of it. Only truth.<br/>---</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Slight AU here folks. Story begins near the end of 'Thor : The Dark World', after the confrontation with Malekith in Svartalfheim. Events in 'Iron Man 3' have not yet taken place. Screwing with timelines is fun :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight AU here folks. Story begins near the end of 'Thor : The Dark World', after the confrontation with Malekith in Svartalfheim. Events in 'Iron Man 3', Captain America The Winter Soldier' and 'Age of Ultron' have not yet taken place. Screwing with timelines is fun :D

_"No. No, no, no. Oh you fool, you didn't listen."_

_"I know. I'm a fool. I'm a fool ..."_

_"Stay with me, okay?"_

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry ... "_

_"Shh ..."_

_"I'm sorry ..."_

_"It's okay. It's alright. I'll tell father what you did here today."_

_"... I didn't do it for him."_

_"Nooo!"_

~

 

Darkness. Cold. He heard the wind, and his brother's cry of grief and defiance. Then there was nothing. He must have passed out, for when Loki's eyes flickered open, neither Valhalla nor Hel rose up to greet him. He saw only the churning, thunderous Svartalfheim sky, and knew he yet belonged to the realms of the living. Thor and Jane Foster were gone. He was utterly alone. And, thanks to his own foolhardy actions, he was dying.

He couldn't explain, even to himself, why he'd done it. How do you put into words something that passes through the mind between one heartbeat and the next? How can something so vast and unfathomable and _true_ be described and given reason in something as clumsy as language? Loki had always been gifted with words, but this was beyond even his silver tongue. All he knew was that his brother had been in peril, and he'd been spurred to act. There was no _why_ of it. Only truth.

Not that it mattered now, anyway. Loki gazed up at the roiling sky and felt the life slipping from his body in ribbons, felt the cold seeping in. A dry wind that stank of ashes tugged at his hair and lifted the edges of his coat. He was dying.

His eyes closed a moment, and when they reopened Loki was gripped with new resolve. No. Not like this. He would not die on this forsaken realm, alone and unlamented. He was a _king_ , not some piece of carrion to be left to rot. His brother hadn't even done him the curtsey of waiting until he died before abandoning him.

_Thor_. Bitterness welled, and the pain that lanced through him had nothing to do with the physical wound. Loki clenched his jaw, wrapping himself in that bitterness, using it as a crutch, a deep well from which to draw strength. Slowly, each movement a battle in itself, he rolled over and dragged himself to his hands and knees. Dizziness washed over him, threatening failure. Loki ignored it, focusing instead on gathering the strength needed to gain his feet. The wind gusted, whipping up dust and tangling his hair about his face. The ground where he'd lain was sticky with blood. With one hand pressed tightly to the wound in his chest, Loki took a deep breath and forced himself to stand. There he swayed, so weakened that the wind almost pushed him over again.

No. This lightless rock was not his destiny. Loki squared his shoulders and took one pained step. Then another, and another, and suddenly he was walking. Where he thought he was going, he couldn't say. All he knew was that he couldn't stay where he was. Bleeding and exposed, only death awaited him here. Another step. Another, then ... A breath of darkness, a moment of nothingness. He was falling - flying? - then solid ground was beneath his feet once more.

Loki's legs trembled a warning, then buckled beneath him. He fell to hands and knees, scraping his palms on the asphalt. Blood dripped from his chest and another wave of dizziness washed over him as he raised his head to get his bearings. The location was unknown to him, but familiar. Plain, soulless buildings, wires strung from tall poles overhead, cars, roads. All Midgardian cities had a sense of sameness to them. But how?

_Convergence_ ; his mind helpfully supplied. Well, that took care of escaping from Svartalfheim. All things in life should be so easy. Only now he was presented with a new problem. In light of his actions last time he'd been on Midgard, Loki doubted he would be welcomed here with open arms. Insignificant as the humans were, it would be unwise to allow himself to be discovered in his weakened state. What Loki needed was a place to lie low while he healed, but the humans crawled over this realm like ants, where could he ...

An idea came to him that was either brilliant, or extremely foolish. Given his recent track record, it was probably the latter. The same could be said for the impulse that had resulted in his injury, and Loki had come to it with the same inability to explain his thought process. It didn't have to make sense. It just had to work.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead and Loki grimaced. Thor was nearby. If he was going to act, he had to do it now, before he was discovered. Thor would help him, Loki had no doubt of that. But the sting of abandonment was too raw, and he'd only be dragged back to Asgard anyway. Most likely right back to his prison cell, which was not an acceptable option.

So. Avoid Thor, seek out a place to hole up until he was sufficiently recovered. Simple enough. Loki sat back on his heels and cast his focus inwards, eyes fixed on the grey sky as he called upon his magic. The spell braided with the last of his strength, draining him fast. His physical form shuddered like static, then he was gone, vanished in a brief flash of green light. All that remained to show he had been there was a few drops of blood on the ground.

 

Loki rematerialised inside a building, high off the ground and far from city where the portal had deposited him. Late afternoon sun flooded in through the windows -they'd been repaired, he distinctly remembered breaking the glass last time he'd been here - and the noise of the traffic below was muted. Still on his knees, Loki had a moment to look around the empty room at the top of Stark tower before he pitched forward and collapsed on the floor. There was no one here. Darkness once again hazed the edges of his vision, and he knew no more.

 

~


	2. two

_"Sir, you have a visitor."_

"Not now JARVIS, kinda busy here." Tony lifted a hand and adjusted his safety goggles with the back of his wrist, then bent his head and got back to business with the welding torch. Sitting on the work table was a pretty banged up chest plate from his newest suit. Something had gone awry with the repulsors during what should have been a routine test flight and the suit had ended up, well, in need of some repairs, to say the least.

_"Sir I think --_ "

"Is it Pepper or Rhodey?" Tony interrupted, voice raised over the flare of the torch.

_”No Sir."_

"Then I don't care. Work to do. Very busy."

There was a pause for a few moments, then JARVIS' long suffering voice was at him again.

_"My sensors indicate a Mr. Laufeyson is upstairs and appears to be in a considerable amount of distress."_

Tony was considering putting JARVIS on mute when he realised exactly what the AI was telling him. Laufeyson? Wasn't that --

"What?!" He practically yelped as he dropped the torch and ripped off his goggles. He was halfway across the workshop to the elevator when he hesitated, debating whether or not he should suit up before confronting Loki. If the god meant to cause trouble Tony wouldn't be able to do much to stop him without his armour. Then again, storming up there fully suited and guns blazing would be a good way to turn the confrontation hostile from the get go.

"What's he doing up there JARVIS? Fill me in buddy."

_"He appears to have passed out, Sir."_

"What? Never mind, I'm on my way."

Decision made, Tony left the suit behind and headed for the elevator. As he rode to the top floor, he tried very hard not to freak out and went over in his mind every possible reason he could come up with for why Loki would come to the tower to pass out. It was a very short list, mostly populated with; _He's crazy_. Tony very pointedly didn't think about his last confrontation with the Asgardian and the alien invasion that had followed. Thinking about his almost one way trip through the wormhole still made him jittery.

 

The elevator dinged softly and the door slid open to reveal the spacious main room. Tony stepped out cautiously, his eyes immediately fixing on the dark shape sprawled near the windows. He couldn't see the man's face, but if the flashy outfit was anything to go by, it was definitely Loki.

"Oh god. JARVIS, there's a god. Bleeding on my new carpet."

Bleeding quite seriously, actually. The green leather of his coat was soaked through and turned a muddy brown colour, and Tony could see a dark stain creeping out from under Loki's body. He was lying very still, not even visibly breathing.

"Is he, you know ..." Tony pulled a face and made a slashing motion across his throat.

_"Scans indicate he is still alive, merely unconscious."_

"Well ain't that lucky."

Tony paced slowly across the floor, reaching out with a foot to prod the body when he was close enough. No response. With a sigh, he crouched down and carefully rolled Loki onto his back, wincing when he got a good look at the wound in his torso. Nasty. Apparently he'd pissed someone off, big time.

"This is the part where you tell me I should see the other guy." Tony quipped, wondering what he should do. Roll him off the edge of the tower? That sounded like a good idea.

At the sound of his voice, or perhaps stirred by the movement, Loki's eyelids fluttered then opened a slit, dull green showing beneath dark eyelashes. He blinked and seemed to focus, ragged voice clawing its way out of his throat.

"Stark ..."

"What is with you and this room? It's like some kind of elephant graveyard where you come to get your ass kicked."

That's it Tony, don't let him know he's got you freaked. Sass and balls. Because it worked so well last time, right? Loki just coughed and began to move a hand towards his wound but gave up the movement halfway through, like it required too much effort. Tony frowned.

"What're you doing here? Last I heard you were doing some hard time back home. What happened to you? Cell mate got a bit too touchy feely?"

The glare Loki speared him with might have been intimidating if he wasn't so obviously in excruciating pain. His lips were pale and bloodless, the skin around his eyes tight with tension.

"Insufferable fool ..."

"Yeah, yeah, sticks and stones big guy." Tony rose from his crouch and folded his arms, repeating his earlier question. "What're you doing here?"

Another withering glare. "Needed somewhere safe ..." He trailed off and Tony could almost see what little colour remained draining from his face with the effort of talking.

"You've really got a few screws loose, don't you." That, or he was playing some deeper game that Tony couldn't even begin to guess at. "I should call up Fury and hand your skinny ass over to SHIELD right now."

Loki just blinked at him before his eyes rolled back and his face went slack. A little alarmed but not sure why, Tony called out to JARVIS for assurance.

"Uh, he still with us?"

_"Yes, Sir. Whatever caused his injury appears to have missed all major organs, but he has lost a lot of blood. If you mean to save him you had best work quickly to stop the bleeding."_

"Whoa, who said anything about saving him?"

Tony held his hands out defensively, then dropped one and used the other to rake fingers through dishevelled hair. He didn't know what to do. Common sense told him to do nothing. This was the man responsible for hundreds of deaths, the man who had tried to enslave the entire human race. He'd thrown Tony himself through a window, for christ's sake. No one would fault him if he just sat back and let nature take its course. But it felt ... wrong. Whatever Loki might have done in the past, Tony couldn't just stand there and watch him bleed out without having major issues with his conscience.

"I'm losing my mind."

Not giving himself a chance to think it over and reconsider, Tony returned to Loki's side and began the difficult task of lifting him from the floor. He was tall and long limbed, and all that leather and metal made him heavy. Maybe he should have brought the suit after all. Grunting under the dead weight, Tony managed to get Loki in a fireman's hold across his shoulders and staggered down the hall with him towards the guest room. He huffed and almost dropped him as he manoeuvred through the doorway, but managed to stay upright until he reached the bed, where he dumped Loki as carefully as he could, mindful of his wound.

"Shit, the sheets ..."

How easily did blood stains wash out? Pepper was going to kill him if the linen was ruined. Nothing to be done for it now. Tony gazed down at his wounded god and frowned. What was he supposed to do with him now? He was no doctor, he was totally unqualified for this. Okay. JARVIS had said to stop the bleeding. If he managed that, perhaps Loki's naturally enhanced healing abilities would take care of the rest. Assuming he had said abilities. Thor could take a pounding and walk it off, so Tony guessed his brother was the same. The fact that he was still breathing after being stabbed right through the middle meant he was a tough bastard, if nothing else.

"Okay. Bandages. I got this."

Tony looked around the room as though he hoped a stash of bandages might manifest in front of him. He was mildly disappointed when it didn't happen, but didn't let that stop him. Leaving Loki where he was, Tony dashed for the elevator and headed back down to his workshop. Ever since he'd almost cut a couple of fingers off a few months ago, Pepper had insisted that he keep a well stocked first aid kit down there in case of emergency. It would have everything he needed, plus a pharmacy's worth of extra crap.

By the time he'd collected the kit and made his way back to the guest room, Loki was awake again. He lay staring at the ceiling, though his dulled green eyes snapped to the doorway when Tony entered. They stared at one another for a few moments, a silent battle of wills. Tony wasn't sure which of them won, or even exactly what they'd been scuffling over, but Loki gave no indication of hostility as he approached the bed.

"Gotta clean and bind that wound if you're so keen on living." He gestured the first aid kit as he sat it down on the bedside table. "Get that armour off. I'll be right back."

Tony didn't wait for an answer, just turned away and slipped through the door into the adjoining bathroom, where he filled a bowl with warm water and grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink. When he returned to the bedroom, Loki was exactly where he'd left him, a pained, frustrated expression on his too pale face.

"Hey, Jolly Green, you hear me?"

Loki sent a scathing glance his way and visibly struggled to make himself speak.

"I cannot sit up without aid." Terse shame. It obviously galled him to be so weak. He watched Tony like a hawk, sharp eyes seeking out any hint of mockery in his face.

For his part, Tony recognised pride when he saw it. He had a great deal of it himself, and knew it could be wounded more grievously than the physical body should the right weapon be used. It was in his power right now to plunge the metaphorical dagger in deep and twist it to his heart's content. Once, not so long ago, he might have done it. But a stint in a cave in Afghanistan had changed him, mostly for the better, and it wasn't in him to kick Loki when he was down. Instead, he just nodded and set the bowl and cloth on the table.

"Alright. Nice and easy, let's do this."

Ignoring the suspicious glance Loki threw at him, Tony sat on the edge of the bed and slid an arm under his shoulders, supporting him as he helped him to an upright position. Loki made no sound but his face contorted with pain and his hands clenched into fists around the bed covers. Tony noticed a light sheen of sweat on his brow and wondered just how much it was costing Loki to remain conscious. No time to worry about it. The next problem that presented itself was getting Loki out of his armour. A mass of green and black leather with golden metal accents, both functional and decorative, Tony had no idea where to start.

Loki sighed, as though reading his mind and lifted his right arm, wincing as he used his other hand to unbuckle and ease the gold vambrace off his forearm. He repeated the action with the other arm and tossed the vambraces on the floor. Another sigh, a resigned scowl.

"Help me stand."

Tony was about to ask why, when he took another look at Loki's outfit and realised he was sitting on the long tails of his coat and whatever was beneath it. Without a word he supported Loki while he gingerly swung his legs around and set his feet on the floor, then half lifted the god from the bed. Loki swayed on his feet, breathing harshly and gripping Tony's shoulder for balance. After a long moment he nodded and began to draw his coat open, letting it slide down his arms and fall in a heavy heap on the floor. Beneath that was a double layer of form fitting leather, secured by a series of buckles and hidden zippers. Tony helped as best he could, but all he really accomplished was to keep Loki standing while deft fingers shed himself of clothing. When all the leather had been peeled away, Loki was left in his pants and boots, and a green shirt of light linen that was stained a murky brown with blood around the site of the wound. He began to lift it over his head, but made a muffled sound of pain when his arms lifted too high.

"Sit down." Tony stopped him before he could try again, unable to watch him put himself through that much pain. "I'll cut it off."

Loki allowed him to ease him back down onto the bed without protest, and Tony rummaged in the first aid kit a moment before producing a small pair of scissors. They cut through the cloth easily and Tony very carefully pulled the shirt away from Loki's body, mindful of the edges that stuck to his wounds.

He looked different without his armour. More vulnerable. Less of an untouchable entity and more like an ordinary man. If someone that otherworldly beautiful could be called ordinary. It seemed wrong to call a man beautiful, but there was no other word Tony could think of to describe him. Even wounded and bloodied, pale and shaking, he was really something remarkable. And that line of thinking was going to get him into all sorts of trouble. Tony forcefully shoved the thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.

"What happened to you, anyway?" He asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, bowl of water on his lap and began cleaning away the blood on Loki's back.

Loki glanced at him as though he'd asked the stupidest question in the world and said flatly;

"I was stabbed."

_Thank you Captain Obvious._ Tony rolled his eyes and completed the rest of his work in silence. Loki held himself stiffly, wincing when Tony got too close to the wound itself, but otherwise doing a pretty damn good impression of a statue. Tony shifted position so he could clean the front of Loki's body, schooling his expression to keep his dismay at the sight of the wound from his face. He needn't have bothered - Loki ignored him, gazing over his head at the wall on the far side of the room. When he was done, Tony patted the skin dry and dug a disinfectant spray out of the kit.

"This is going to sting."

Loki made no reply, but hissed venomously when Tony gave each side of the stab wound a good spray. He then produced a couple of gauze pads and a roll of bandage. One of the pads he pressed to Loki's abdomen, covering the wound that was still seeping blood.

"Hold that."

Silent but compliant, Loki did as he was told while Tony taped the gauze to his skin.

"And that."

Tony guided his hand back to hold the second pad in place, and after taping it down began to wrap the bandage firmly around his torso. And then he was finished. Tony didn't know how much good he'd done, or if it would be enough to save Loki's life. It didn't seem like much. But at least he'd tried. He took it upon himself to unbuckle Loki's boots and draw them off his feet, and when he looked up he caught him watching him, a thoughtful expression warring with the tension in his face. Tony cleared his throat and stood up.

"You should get some rest now. That's the best I can do."

He helped Loki lie down and covered him with blankets. He packed up the first aid kit, and took the bowl of red water and the bloodied cloth into the bathroom. When he returned, Loki's eyes had closed and his faced had smoothed out as he succumbed to the sleep he so badly needed. Tony hovered in the doorway a moment, unwilling to leave but with no reason to stay. Finally, he sighed.

"You're welcome." He drew the door closed behind him and left Loki to his rest.

 

~


	3. three

 

Three days passed, in which Tony heard not so much as a peep from Loki. On the morning of the first day he stuck his head into the room to check on him and make sure he hadn't gone and died on him during the night. Loki was out cold, but he was breathing fine, and JARVIS assured Tony that he was stable and in no immediate danger. After that Tony had left him alone. In his opinion, he'd already given more than enough aid to the man who was supposed to be his enemy. He sure as hell wasn't going to play the hovering nurse maid while he waited for him to wake up.

It made him uneasy having Loki in the building, though. Tony spent most of the first day walking around on eggshells and continuously glancing over his shoulder, waiting for the sly attack he felt sure was coming. It was almost disappointing when nothing did happen. With that much adrenalin and tension simmering under the surface, Tony was on edge and needed an outlet. If Pepper had been around, he knew exactly how he could have worked off some steam, but she was in Europe on business, and wouldn't be back for another week. A one on one session with his hand didn't have the same kind of appeal, so Tony did the next best thing to keep himself occupied. He went down to the workshop and tinkered.

Even then he wasn't completely at ease. He could be up to his elbows in grease or immersed in holographic schematics, it didn't matter. Part of his mind was always niggling away, fretting over what was going on in that guest room. Having JARVIS able to look in on Loki whenever he liked did ease his concern a little, though he began to get cranky when all the AI had to report was that Loki was still sleeping. Who slept for that long? Seriously. Once he asked JARVIS if he was sure Loki was truly asleep and hadn't actually died in there. JARVIS had replied with an air of wounded dignity that he knew the difference between a sleeper and a corpse, and that he would alert Tony the moment anything changed in Loki's condition. Tony had reined himself in a bit after that. It was sobering knowing he was irritating a computer program.

At one point Tony turned on the TV, hoping to distract himself with some mindless daytime drivel. The current program seemed eager to oblige - some sci fi flick featuring a giant space ship attacking what looked to be London. Tony stared at the screen for a while, watching, but not really taking in what he saw. It was only when the camera panned back to a visibly nervous news reporter, clutching her microphone while wild winds roared around her, that Tony realised what he was watching was real life. Aliens were attacking London.

He glanced up at the ceiling in the direction of Loki's room, immediately connecting him with the attack. Was his presence here merely a ploy to keep Iron Man distracted and out of the way while his minions wreaked havoc on the other side of the world?

"This is bad. Very bad."

Why hadn't anyone from SHIELD contacted him? Where were the others?

"JARVIS --" Tony cut himself off when a familiar face appeared on screen, unreal and anachronistic in his armour and cape. Thor. "Well I'll be damned. Nice work big guy."

That was when the news story ended, and Tony realised it was not a live report, but a recap of yesterday's news. The shit had been hitting the fan big time - yesterday. Why was he only just hearing of this now? On the damn TV, for crying out loud. He was seriously out of the loop. Frowning, Tony switched off the television and sat staring at the blank screen. Was his exclusion deliberate, or had there just not been time to call him in? Apparently there'd been plenty of time to have Thor come on over from Asgard. Thinking of Thor made Tony's mind circle back around to Loki. What did he have to do with all this?

"Update on Loki, JARVIS."

_"Mr Laufeyson's condition is unchanged, Sir."_

"Hmm."

Tony debated what he should do. He could contact SHIELD and demand to know why he hadn't been called in. Alien invasions were kind of his specialty, right? There weren't too many other people in the world qualified to handle that sort of thing. Or he could cut out the bureaucratic bullshit, suit up and fly over to London, try and track down Thor and get some answers. That was likely to be the more worthwhile course of action, but Tony found himself hesitating. What would going over there now accomplish? According to the news, the danger had passed. Thor had handled things and all that was left was cleanup duty. All sorts of excuses for not going popped into Tony's head - If he'd been needed, he would have been called in. The suit was mostly repaired, but a long distance flight wasn't advisable until he'd had a chance to properly check the bug with the repulsors. He couldn't leave Loki here alone.

Loki. It all came back to Loki. Tony scratched his beard, then ran his hand back through his hair with a sigh. He would wait, he finally decided. Until Loki woke up and he found out exactly what he was doing here, Tony wouldn't do anything to draw attention to the fact that he _was_ here. It was probably a stupid call. Make that almost definitely a stupid call. But Tony didn't change his mind. It felt good, in a naughty schoolboy kind of way, to keep this secret from SHIELD. It pleased him to be the one holding the cards for a change and keeping something from the powers that be. It would probably come back to bite him in the ass, but for now, he'd roll with it.

Three days passed. Tony remained on edge, though he did his best not to acknowledge it, spending his time tinkering, drinking, listening to classic rock and waiting for Loki to awaken.

 

+++

 

As safe as he was going to get for the time being, Loki allowed himself to descend into a deep, healing sleep, wrapped in magic and the resilience of his own physiology. It left his physical body defenceless and vulnerable, but he trusted that Stark would not let anything happen to him. Strange, that trust. They had fought on opposite sides of a war, yet Loki had no fear of harm coming from that quarter while he slept. Stark was like Thor - honourable to a fault. He might turn against Loki in the future, but not while he was helpless.

He had no way of knowing how much time passed. Most of that time was spent in a darkness shot with ribbons of shimmering green light. It was peaceful there. No anger or disappointment, no betrayals, no guilt or hate or fear or ambition. No broken heart, no poisoned memories. Just darkness and light.

But as his body healed, Loki's mind was raised up through the layers of unconsciousness, and he shifted from magical cocoon to a natural sleeping state. And there, he dreamed.

 

_Darkness. Starlight was cold, distant pin pricks in the mantle of night and the air held the biting chill of deepest winter. Loki lay on his back, suspended in the air and stretched out naked for all to see. He could see them gathered around, chittering and whispering, pale forms swaying like scorpion tails, awaiting the perfect moment to strike. The Chitauri. Loki bared his teeth at them in a snarl, struggling against his invisible bonds._

_"You are mine to command! Release me!"_

_Their voices crawled over his skin like cold, rasping tongues._

No. No you will never be free. You failed. You are damned.

_Loki sucked in a breath through his teeth as one of the creatures raised himself up above the others. He stood on a dais the colour of night, his eyeless gaze piercing and direct. The Other. Loki could feel his attention as razor sharp nails scraping delicately over his mind._

_"You were warned of the price of failure."_

_Loki pressed his lips together and gave no response. What could he say? It was true. He_ had _failed. But he would not beg for mercy._

_"He comes for you. Your anguish will echo throughout the ages."_

_The Other made a slashing motion with his claws and Loki fell. Fell through dark and cold and dream and ---_

\--- woke up with a gasp, heart racing in his chest. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was. The room was plain but elegant with expensive looking furnishings and a framed print on the wall. Deep golden sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the blinds and somewhere up near the ceiling, an unobtrusive red light blinked slowly like a lazy eye.

Loki sighed and relaxed back into the bed as memory returned. He was safe. Hidden away at the top of Stark Tower like some princess in a Midgardian fairy tale. He rubbed his eyes wearily with thumb and index finger, thinking back over the dream. Just a dream, harmless in itself, but the warning was very real.

Loki hadn't forgotten the threat that hung over his head like a death sentence. The one benefit to being held prisoner on Asgard was that it had offered him some measure of protection, though Malekith and his dark elves had proven the golden city was not impenetrable. Here on Midgard he was without even that semblance of protection. Oh, the realm had its champions, but Loki doubted very much they would rise up on his behalf. Unless ... His eyes narrowed as an idea slipped through his mind, shadowy and serpentine. Unless he could win the trust of said champions. They were human, after all, with human hearts susceptible to manipulation. His sceptre was long taken from his grasp, but there were other ways, other means by which he could accomplish his goals. Time was all it would cost. Time and some quality acting on his part, but that was of little consequence. Loki wasn't called the Liesmith for nothing. He smiled to himself. Time to play a game.

 

+++

 

It was right on sunset when JARVIS informed him that Loki had awakened. Tony hadn't slept much himself over the last few days, and was slumped over his work bench snoozing when the AI's voice filtered into the room. He sat up with a snort, a leather safety glove sticking to his face a moment before dropping back onto the bench. How long had he been out? A glance at his watch told him it had been no more than twenty minutes. Fantastic. Trust the asshole to wake up just as he was finally getting a bit of shuteye.

Tony scrubbed his face with his hands then raked them back through his hair, causing it to stick up every which way. Alright. Time to get some answers. And hopefully, he added as an afterthought, not get his ass kicked. To be on the safe side, he grabbed the wristband that could remotely call the suit to him and slid it over his hand. Just in case Loki was up to old tricks.

The elevator ride to the top floor seemed to go way too fast, and Tony found himself lingering in the hall outside Loki's room, hand half raised to knock on the door. Should he knock, or just barge in? It was his house, but there was no reason to be rude. Damnit, was there some etiquette to be followed when dealing with potentially hostile gods? They so hadn't covered that in Superhero finishing school.

_Nut up, Stark. Stop stalling._ Giving himself a mental shake, Tony rapped sharply on the door and called out;

"I'm coming in, you better be decent."

He waited a few seconds, just to be safe, then opened the door and stepped inside. Loki was right where he'd left him, sitting up in bed and fiddling with the bandages wrapped around his torso. His hands went still and fell back to the bed covers when Tony entered the room. Green eyes flashed warily and his shoulders hunched, as though warding off invisible blows.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty." Tony folded his arms casually and leaned against the door frame. "Glad you're awake, I was afraid I was gonna have to kiss you."

Loki arched an eyebrow at that, apparently not understanding the reference. Figured. Tony had been chuffed with that one, too. He forged ahead, regardless.

"Feeling better?"

Loki continued to eye him as though he might grow fangs and bite, apparently weighing up whether or not it was a trick question. Eventually, he nodded briefly.

"Yes."

"Wow. You're a real conversationalist, aren't you. Relax, it's okay. I got this." Tony dusted off his hands. "Good talk."

Now Loki just look perplexed. "Is there meaning to half of what you say, or do you merely speak to hear the sound of your own voice?"

"Hm." A non committal shrug. "Little of column A, little of column B. So let's cut to the chase. What're you doing here? Wait, new question." He cut Loki off before he'd even opened his mouth to reply. "Do you have anything to do with a large alien space ship causing a ruckus in London?" After a few moments of waiting silence, Tony made a 'go ahead' gesture with one hand. "You can talk now."

"Oh, I wasn't sure if you were done." Loki's lips twisted wryly. "I was there, but I am not the cause of your aliens, if that's what you're asking." He raised both eyebrows. "Shouldn't you be there, Man of Iron?"

"It's taken care of. Your brother stopped by."

"Thor ..." So many conflicting emotions in that one word. "Is he ... well?"

"He's fine. Threw his hammer around, destroyed a lot of property. Kicked alien butt. The usual."

Tony watched Loki's face as he talked, trying to read every little expression that raced over it. Hearing about his brother definitely didn't make him happy, though the myriad reasons for that were open to speculation.

"Sooo you going to tell me how you came to be bleeding all over my floor?"

Loki ignored the question and asked one of his own;

"Where is Thor now? I suppose you told him I'm here?"

"I haven't told anyone." Tony said quietly, a little unnerved by the way Loki's eyes fixed onto him, his gaze becoming even more direct, if such a thing were possible. "Tell me that wasn't a mistake, Blitzen."

"Advantageous for me. I cannot say if it was a mistake on your part."

"Why are you hiding from Thor?"

"I thought that obvious. I do not much relish the thought of being dragged back to Asgard in chains."

"Yeah, about that." Tony frowned. "I thought they stuffed you in a cell and threw away the key."

Loki shrugged eloquently. "Circumstances have changed." He sighed when Tony gestured for him to elaborate. "There was an incident, involving an ancient power and Thor's human woman. Father --" He scowled at the slip up, "-- the All-Father refused to allow Thor to attempt salvaging the situation on his own, so he came to me for help." A knowing smirk. "He was desperate. He broke me out of prison and we fled Asgard as traitors. There was a confrontation. I was injured." His hand hovered over his bandaged wound. "Thor believes me dead. Were he to learn otherwise, I am sure he would use me to repair relations with Odin."

"Hand you over to clear his name."

Loki nodded. "Precisely."

Tony sighed heavily. He so didn't want to get tangled up in Asgardian politics, and harbouring a fugitive was a good way to end up neck deep, fast. Not to mention the mess he'd get into with his own people. Fury would have a field day.

"Well, that sucks and all. But you can't stay here."

"You're kicking me out?"

"Got it in one."

"Where do you suggest I go? There are a lot of people who wish me dead. My magic is drained. I won't last a day out there."

"Not my problem." Damnit, that face was pathetic. Like a kicked puppy. Tony had to keep reminding himself that the guy was a psychopath. He didn't look much like one right now though. More like a kid who has just found out Santa isn't real.

Loki dropped his gaze, studying his fingernails with feigned interest.

"If you wished me dead, why bother saving my life?"

Good question. One Tony didn't have an answer for. He hesitated, and that gave Loki time to look up again, his eyes weary, his face resigned.

"It's alright. I truly did not expect otherwise." He began to throw back the blankets and climb out of bed, wincing with the pain movement caused him.

"Wait. Just, wait." Tony sighed, unable to believe what he was doing. Of the two of them, Loki was the convicted criminal. So why did Tony feel like the bad guy? "Wow. You really know how to lay on the guilt trip, don't you."

It was the eyes, he decided. Big green eyes, filled with a lifetime of pain. Tony knew very little about Loki other than his past desire for world domination and the fact that he was Thor's adopted brother, but he could see in those eyes someone who had been let down too many times. Someone who had perhaps never been given the chance to be anyone else. Tony had been given his own wakeup call and the chance to change. Was it naive to maybe want to give Loki that same opportunity?

The god in question sat with one foot on the floor, frozen in the process of sliding the other leg out of bed. He watched Tony carefully, very pointedly remaining silent.

"Five days." Tony finally said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You've got five days." Tony grimaced, knowing he was making a mistake but unable to take it back. He'd come this far, might as well go all the way. "After that Pepper will be back and I'll have to make all sorts of explanations that'll just be a royal pain in my ass. You can stay until then, but after that I need you gone. Got it?"

"Yes." A thoughtful pause, then; "You're serious?"

"As a nun in sunday school." This was such a bad idea. "You can keep this room. There's a bathroom through there. Kitchen and living room are one floor down, help yourself. Stay out of my workshop, and no funny business. We clear?"

"Perfectly." Suddenly those eyes seemed to see more than they revealed.

"Okaay, great." Time to retreat into the bottom of a bottle of scotch. "I'll try to dig up some clothes that might fit since, you know, your gear's all ruined with the blood and holes and such. You need anything, call out to JARVIS, he'll let me know."

"Jarvis?"

_"Hello, Sir. Pleasure to have you staying with us."_

"What was that?" Loki's eyebrows were raised almost to his hair line.

Tony couldn't help smiling. "That's JARVIS. He's like big brother, always watching. So behave. I'd hate to have to beat you into the floor again."

At that, Loki winced. "Actually, it was --"

"Leaving now!"

"Stark."

Tony paused in the act of slipping out the door and glanced back, "Yeah?"

"... Thank you."

"Hm. Yeah, right."

He closed the door behind him and hoped like hell he wasn't going to end up with a severe case of being dead.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely words of support so far, everyone! I hope there wasn't too much babbling this chapter. Time for some action!


	4. four

When he was sure Stark wasn't going to reappear and talk at him some more, Loki allowed himself a tiny hint of a smile. Well, that had been easier than he could have hoped for. He never would have taken Tony Stark for a sentimental sap, there was no denying what had just played out. He smirked. Even his mother had learned not to fall for that puppy eyed face, but Stark had taken the bait and swallowed it whole. His mother ... With that thought, Loki's good humour faded as quickly as it had appeared. He closed his eyes against the pang of grief, feeling the regret swell within him that his final words to her had been denial of their bond. Frigga might not have been related to him by blood, but she would always be the mother of his heart. He hoped she knew that. Loki took what comfort he could from the knowledge that she had been avenged, and hoped she yet smiled on him from Valhalla.

When his eyes opened, they were dry, but a tightness in his throat betrayed the unshed tears. Loki swallowed hard and scooted to the edge of the bed, setting both feet on the floor. Now was not the time to grieve. It would come, but it was better now to assess the damage done to his own person and ensure he wouldn't be meeting Frigga in the afterlife prematurely.

He began to unwind the bandages, finding them spotted with dried blood after the first few layers. The gauze pad taped to his abdomen was fairly badly stained, but the blood was dry, which was a good sign. Loki winced as he pulled the tape off his skin, revealing the partially healed wound beneath it. It had scabbed over while he slept, the healing hastened by his magic. The edges were an angry red and movement had caused the scabs to crack, seeping blood and a thin yellowish fluid. Stitches would have helped it heal more cleanly. Loki felt a surge of resentment when he thought of the scars he would bear, then he sighed. Nothing to be done for it now. He imagined Thor laughing at his vanity, clapping him on the back and proclaiming him a true warrior now, with battle scars to wear proudly. A bittersweet thought. Once, it might have been so. No more. Thor might grieve for childhood memories, but even he had been quick to abandon Loki in his time of need. He told himself it didn't matter, that he didn't need love and companionship. Respect would be enough, once he claimed what was rightfully his. And if not that, then fear would do just as well.

Loki pushed the thoughts aside, feeling out the gauze on his back and awkwardly peeling it away. That done, he sat quietly a moment, hands hovering a few centimetres above the wounds at front and back of his torso. He could feel heat radiating from the injury, at odds with the natural coolness of his body. Deep inside, the wound had begun to knit, but he was still a long way from being fully healed. His magic had been too depleted. It would restore itself over time, but until then he had very little in the way of personal defences. He hadn't been lying when he told Stark he wouldn't last out on his own. Truth and lies, all wrapped up together in a neat little parcel. It was the stuff Loki thrived on, and if the situation weren't so dire, he might almost have been enjoying himself.

Green eyes surveyed the room, lingering on the open doorway opposite the bed. Stark had mentioned a bathroom. Loki sniffed and made a face, smelling blood and ashes and his own unclean body. He hated being dirty. The decision was made. Before he achieved anything else, he was going to bathe.

Since there was no one around to witness and use his weakness against him, Loki didn't bother stifling the low grunt of pain that passed his lips as he rose slowly from the bed. Bare feet scuffed along the carpet, enjoying the plush softness. It had been some time since he'd felt anything other than the hard floor of his cell beneath his feet.  
The bathroom was just as pleasing. There was no actual bath, but the shower was large and the room itself was bright and clean, tiled in white with black accents. A green potted plant sat by the window sill, delicate fronds hanging down while tiny blue flowers reached up towards the light. The sun was setting, but there was still plenty enough light for Loki to see by and his attention snagged on a full length mirror as he stepped into the room.

It had been many months since he last saw his own reflection. It stared back at him now, pale and gaunt, the green of his eyes and the wicked red gash of his wound the only colour. He gazed at himself quietly, taking in every detail. Unkempt, overgrown black hair. Dark, bruised looking shadows under his eyes. High cheekbones more prominent than ever, torso skinny, ribs showing, belly sunken, hip bones sticking out above the waistband of his pants. Healing himself had taken its toll. When his magic ran dry, it had used his own body as fuel, draining every extra scrap of energy so that he might continue living. His lips twisted and he turned away. His strength and vitality would return. Until then, perhaps it was better anyway that he looked the pitiful creature he had made himself out to be.

 

+++

 

Tony wasn't spying. He was just using JARVIS and a hand held tablet to keep an eye on Loki. Because the guy was a compulsive liar and couldn't be trusted. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that, A; he couldn't get those amazing green eyes out of his head, and B; he was curious about the equipment of a god and wanted to see how he, as a lowly mortal, measured up. Okay, maybe a little of B. But it was for science!

Groaning aloud at the twisted turns his mind was making, Tony killed the tablet and tossed it away before he had the chance to watch Loki take his pants off. No. Just, no. He busied himself with searching through the limited selection of clothes he kept at the tower. Finding something that would fit Loki's much taller frame proved difficult, but not impossible. Tony was tempted to leave him a pair of jeans, amused by the thought of several inches worth of ankle sticking out the bottom, but decided against it on account of his wanting to keep breathing. He might not know Loki well, but he knew one thing about him - he had vanity in spades. Best not to upset him in that regard. So Tony found a pair of dark grey sweat pants that had always been a bit too long in the leg for him. Not exactly the most stylish garment he owned, but at least it should fit. The restraint he showed in the choice of pants didn't carry over to the shirt. Tony grinned as he pulled a black t shirt out of the dresser. It was well worn and featured a comic book styled picture of Iron Man on the front. Loki would love it.

He heard the sound of running water from outside the guest room, so Tony opened the door a crack, stuck his hand in and left the small pile of clothes on the floor. His good deed for the day done, Tony headed for the elevator. He wanted to be close by and available should Loki choose to emerge from his room, so instead of returning to his workshop, Tony made a beeline for the kitchen. It had occurred to him that he was starving, and that meant Loki probably was too.  
Food ... That could present a problem. Besides alcohol, which Tony considered a very important food group, there was not much of anything edible in the kitchen. A problem, but not a big one, and easily remedied. That's what take out and credit cards were for, after all.

A phone call to the Good Luck Tea House and forty minutes later, Tony was eagerly unpacking an assortment of white cardboard cartons and arranging them on the low coffee table in the living room. He'd called out to Loki that food was on the way but had received no response.  
 _Too bad,_ he thought with a shrug, opening up a container of wanton soup. _More for me._

He was in the process of lifting a spoonful of soup to his mouth when the hairs at the back of his neck began to tingle.

"You started without me?"

Somehow managing to avoid spilling hot liquid all over himself, Tony turned towards the doorway and almost didn't recognise the man standing there. Barefoot and dressed in the sweatpants and t shirt he'd left for him, Loki looked casual and domestic and not like himself at all. He arched an eyebrow when Tony stared at him for a good deal longer than was polite and stalked into the room, settling cross legged on the floor on the opposite side of the table.

"What is this, anyhow?" He poked at a few of the boxes and sniffed, seeming genuinely curious.

"Uh," Tony stuffed the spoon in his mouth, almost choked as he swallowed, and tried very hard to make his brain function properly. "Chinese. I didn't know what you liked, then figured you could probably use a change from roast boar and mead, so I ordered Chinese to, you know, expand your horizons."

"Roast boar and mead." Loki repeated mildly as he picked up a pair of chopsticks and examined them. A faint smile touched his lips and his eyes lifted to meet Tony's. "You must think us heathens."

"What? No. Asgard, princes of the universe and all that. Ever heard that song? I think you'd like it. It's you. Very you. Anyway, no, I don't think you're a heathen. I just --"

"Stark."

"What?"

"You're saying words, but only noise comes out."

"Yeah, gotta work on that." Tony muttered, feeling like several kinds of idiot. What the hell was wrong with him? He was Tony Stark, cool and calm, even under pressure. Sure, he was having dinner with the man who had tried to kill him but that was no excuse to be babbling like some moron with the IQ of a turnip. Get it together.

Setting down the bowl of soup, he took up a pair of chopsticks and began picking at the sweet and sour chicken. He could feel Loki's eyes on him, watching him intently. It was unnerving until he glanced up and realised the god was studying his hand, watching how he wielded the chopsticks. For some reason Tony found that oddly endearing and had to hide a smile as he furtively watched Loki try his hand at picking up a piece of asparagus. He learned quickly, and was soon handling the chopsticks like he'd been using them all his life.

They ate in silence for a time, Tony to keep himself from babbling and Loki, well, he seemed more interested in stuffing his face than talking. Three days without food will do that to a guy, Tony supposed. At one point Loki looked across the table at him and smirked, a knowing gleam in his eye.

"You've become awfully quiet."

"Just thinking." Tony shrugged, trying not to get all defensive. "What d'you think of the food?"

"I like it. Different, but not unpleasant."

At that Tony laughed, then held his hands up in a placating gesture when Loki frowned at him.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just, god, the way you talk, you sound like you could start quoting Shakespeare at any moment."

Loki quirked an eyebrow;  
"I do not know this Shake-Spear. My father is sometimes called Spear Shaker - Is that what you mean?"

"No, nothing to do with dear old dad. Shakespeare. Famous dead guy. Wrote a lot of plays a few hundred years ago. Might be your cup of tea, actually. Do you read?"

"Of course I can read." An indignant scoff. "I'm not my brother."

"Sorry, of course you can. I mean can you read English? Where'd you learn to speak it so well, anyway? Is it some kind of spell?"

"It is no spell. I was a prince of Asgard, it was expected that I learn the languages of all nine realms."

"Wow, that's impressive!"

"You sound surprised."

"Not surprised, just ..." Tony studied him thoughtfully. "You're not such a bag of cats up there, are you?"

"I have no idea what you mean." Loki looked hopelessly lost at the direction the conversation had taken. Tony hid a smile and plucked a fortune cookie from the box on the table.

"Probably for the best. Fortune cookie?" He held it out in offering, and cool fingers brushed his lightly as Loki took it from his hand.

"What is it?"

Tony's thoughts were momentarily scrambled by that brief touch. His fingers tingled and he raked them back through his hair, unsettled by his reaction.

"You crack it open and it tells your fortune." He took one for himself and ripped open the plastic packet.

"Prophecy?" Loki stared at the cookie in his hand like it held all the secrets of the world.

"Nothing so ominous. It's not gonna predict Ragnarok or anything." Tony chuckled and opened his cookie, missing the brief expression of alarm that passed over Loki's face. "See, here's mine. ' _Look for happiness and you shall receive it._ ' Hm, how typically unoriginal. What does yours say?"

Looking dubious, Loki broke open his cookie and read the message inside. A troubled frown creased his brow and he screwed up the slip of paper, tossing it away with a snort of disdain.

"Midgardian foolishness."

"Whoa, okay. Fortune cookies bad." Well damn, that struck a nerve. Tony subtly noted where the paper had fallen, then changed the subject. "So how's the uh, stabby stab?"

Loki's face was an expressionless mask as he stared at him, then he sighed and his eyes slid away.

"Better." A pale hand lifted, fingers lightly touching the wound where it was hidden under his shirt. "It yet requires healing, but is no longer life threatening." Almost of its own accord, his gaze returned to Tony's face and his brow creased. "Truly told, I am surprised. I came here expecting to die."

"Why _did_ you come here?" All joking aside, that's what Tony really wanted to know. Why, of all places, Loki had chosen to come to him for aid.

Another sigh. "I really cannot say. I suppose I panicked."

"What happened to you?" Tony's voice was quiet, his dark eyes grave.

Loki gazed at him without answering for long moments, visibly debating whether or not he would reply with the truth. Finally, he dropped his eyes again and spoke to his hands.

"We were on the realm of Svartalfheim. Thor, his lady Jane Foster and I. There was a ... monster. It had Thor pinned down, I believe it would have killed him." Loki shook his head, a strand of damp black hair falling across his face. "I acted without thought, picking up a blade and driving it through the creature's body. I was foolish, to think that would stop it ... It grabbed me, pulled me upon the blade that pierced its own chest." He grimaced at the memory, and Tony winced in sympathy. "Such a fool."

"You saved your brother's life. That isn't foolish."

"I suppose not. He has always been more worthy than I, even of life."

"Hey, that's not what I meant!"

"Save it, Stark." Loki rose slowly, using the table for support. "I think it time I retired. Thank you, for the ... Chinese."

"No problem ..." Tony watched him go, wishing there was something he could say to wipe the hurt and bitterness from his face. Wondering when he'd started to care.

He picked at the food some more then gave up, appetite lost. Tony was aware he was at the edge of a very slippery slope here. If he wasn't careful he was going to start feeling sorry for Loki, and that was a can of worms he did _not_ want to open. This was Loki he was dealing with. God of lies and deception. For all Tony knew, this whole thing could be an elaborate ploy to get him to lower his defences and give Loki the opportunity to take him out. The guy had thrown him out a window, after all. But the more he thought back over the conversation, the less inclined he was to believe this was all a trick. There was real pain there, real feeling, he was sure of it.

His eyes flickered across the room to where the crumpled piece of paper from the fortune cookie lay discarded. Curious, he rose to his feet and went to retrieve it, smoothing the creases out of the paper so he could read it.

_'There is yet time enough for you to take a different path.'_

"Huh." Tony curled his fingers around the paper, wondering what it meant. And more importantly, what it meant to Loki. There was clearly something important there. It was still early, but something told him he was going to be in for another sleepless night mulling it over. Maybe it would be a good time to take the suit for a test flight.

With that in mind, Tony cleaned up the remains of dinner, stowing the leftovers in the fridge and tossing the rest in the trash. He then rode the elevator down to his workshop, determined to get Loki and his haunted green eyes out of his head.

 

+++

 

Loki awoke to almost full darkness. Glimmers of light from the city outside snuck in through cracks in the blinds, allowing him to see vague outlines of the bedroom. There was no moon in sight to tell the time, but he guessed it was late. He wondered what had woken him, then his stomach gave an obliging rumble and he sighed into the darkness. Hunger gnawed at him like a rat in his guts. Unsurprising, really, but bothersome. With the way his magic was working overtime to heal him and replenish itself, it was burning energy from every available source. That which he gained by eating was the first to go. He needed to refuel. Shouldn't be a problem. There had been enough food at dinner to feed an army, surely there must be leftovers.

Loki climbed out of bed, moving a little more smoothly than he had been able to earlier. As his feet touched the ground a dim light flickered on overhead, startling him. He looked around, wary, but the room was empty. Sensor lights? It didn't seem practical, then he remembered Stark mentioning someone called JARVIS. Always watching, he'd said. Loki glanced up at the red light near the ceiling and pressed his lips together in a thin line. He didn't like the idea of being watched, but there was nothing to be done about it if he wanted to stay here. And he _did_ want to stay here.

On cat silent feet he left the bedroom and padded down the hall towards the elevator. It took a few moments for the car to reach his floor, which indicated Stark hadn't yet gone to bed. Assuming he was the only other person in the tower. Loki hadn't given that any thought, actually. _Were_ there others here? Staff or family or, he shuddered, other Avengers? Loki hesitated and considered going back to bed, but his stomach grumbled a reminder and he steeled himself once more. If there was any danger of discovery, Stark would have warned him.

The elevator carried him smoothly down a level and the doors slid back with a soft hiss. There was a light on waiting for him, burning at a low setting so that soft shadows gathered in corners. Loki hadn't thought to ask for directions. He hadn't thought of a lot of things, he realised with a surge of irritation. He was getting sloppy. As he gazed down the hallway, another light flicked on a few metres ahead. Then another some distance beyond that. Was his invisible watcher showing him the way? One way to find out.  
Loki followed the lights, slipping through silence and halflight like a ghost. Sure enough, he eventually reached the kitchen and allowed himself a celebratory smile as he made his way to the refrigerator. Another win - stacked neatly inside were a collection of white boxes, the remains of dinner.

Loki selected one at random and leaned against the refrigerator as he opened it, enjoying the coolness of its stainless steel surface. With no utensils at hand, he picked out a piece of meat covered in some kind of sauce with his fingers and popped it in his mouth. Distaste screwed up his face. Lesson learned; Chinese was not agreeable when cold. He cast his eyes about, searching for some way to reheat the food. There were means to do such on Asgard, and enough appliances arranged about the kitchen to give the impression the same was possible here. Unfortunately, Loki had no idea which did what, or how to operate them.

It was galling to be stumped by something so minor. Loki scowled, pacing the kitchen, the offending box of cold food still in hand. He didn't want to call Stark and admit he needed help. He'd done enough of that already. But then again, Stark _had_ told him to ask if he needed anything. He should be glad of the chance to do service to a god. Loki glanced up at the ceiling, unsure where to direct his voice, finally calling out hesitantly;

"JARVIS?"

 

+++

 

Tony was on the homeward curve of his second leisurely lap around the city when JARVIS announced that Loki was calling for him.

" _He seems bewildered by the kitchen._ "

Tony snorted a laugh, pretty sure he could guess what the problem was. Mr High and Mighty got the munchies and didn't know how to work the microwave.

"Tourist. Tell him I'm on my way." He laughed again and set a course for home.

 

 

He found Loki in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge and glumly eyeing a box of sweet and sour chicken that sat on the island counter.

"Problem?" He padded into the room, hair tousled from his helmet, still dressed in the black flight suit he wore under the armour. His lips quirked into a smile. "Look at you, all geared up for a midnight snack and nothing to show for it."

"I'm glad my ignorance amuses you." Loki snapped, but there wasn't any real heat in the words.

Tony patted him on the shoulder as he walked by, overly aware of how muscles tensed beneath his hand. What was he doing touching Loki anyway? He snatched his hand back and scooped up the box of chicken, continuing on to the microwave like nothing had happened.

"Don't you have stuff like this on Asgard?" He tossed back over his shoulder, placing the box in the microwave and hitting a few buttons to get it started.

"Not like this." Loki's voice was too close, and Tony turned to find him right behind him, peering over his shoulder at the microwave. "Why does it spin?"

Tony shrugged, slipping away and trying not to make it seem like he was retreating. "That's just how it works." He could have given a spiel about wavelengths and radio frequencies, cavities and anti-nodes, but doubted Loki really cared. He'd probably just accuse him of talking crap again. He hoisted himself up onto the island counter, a safe distance away.

Loki continued to watch the spinning box for another thirty seconds, appearing almost mesmerised by it. He blinked when the microwave started beeping, and glanced back over his shoulder at Tony.

"It's done?"

"It's done." Tony confirmed with a smile.

"Hm. Noisy, but effective." He retrieved the carton of food and hesitated a moment. "Where are the sticks?"

"Sticks? Oh, chopsticks, right. I threw them out. Grab a fork out of that drawer."

Loki did as he was instructed, and was soon happily feeding his face. Tony watched him eat, thinking how cute he looked in his Iron Man shirt and sleep ruffled hair. It was hard to keep reminding himself that this was the guy who'd thrown him out a window. He just seemed so different. Back then there had been something very obviously driving Loki, spurring his every action with a kind of palpable urgency. Tony couldn't sense that in him now. He seemed relaxed and easier in his own skin. Maybe getting spitted on a sword had mellowed him out some? That didn't erase past crimes, but it made remembering them and remaining angry about them difficult, to say the least.

"Hey, you gonna share that?" He asked after a while, mostly because he needed to be called an insignificant mortal and reminded that Loki was not as guileless as he was making himself out to be.

He surprised Tony by looking up and blinking, the hint of a smile touching his lips as something unreadable flashed through his eyes.

"I suppose I could be convinced." Long legs covered the distance between them and he offered the fork to Tony, holding the box out for him to select a piece of chicken.

Once again, their fingers touched as the fork changed hands. Loki's skin was smooth and cool and Tony found himself wanting to take his hand, enfold it in his own and share his warmth. Crazy thoughts! Bad, unwanted thoughts. Tony speared a piece of chicken and popped it in his mouth, thinking of Pepper and fidelity and the fact that he was _not_ attracted to men in general and Loki in particular.  
He was so busy schooling his thoughts that he almost missed Loki placing his hand gently on his knee.

"Whoa, what are you --" Silenced by a glance from those amazing green eyes. Sitting on the counter as he was, they were almost of equal height, and that made for some intense eye contact. Tony found himself unable to look away as Loki placed the white box on the counter beside him and gently eased himself into the space between his knees. He could feel the coolness of his skin, even through the flight suit and it raised goosebumps on his flesh.

Loki didn't say a word. He placed his hands either side of Tony's thighs on the counter and leaned in close, eyes questioning and knowledgeable at the same time. Tony wanted to touch him. God, he wanted to touch him but he kept his hands still, almost trembling with the effort of not reacting. Warm breath brushed over his skin and lips touched the side of his neck, butterfly light, barely there.

Tony flinched and that broke the moment. Loki drew back, enough that Tony had room to push him aside and escape from his place on the counter. He retreated a safe distance across the room and paused, feeling panicky and out of control.

"That didn't happen. That can't happen." He shook his head, raising a hand for silence when Loki began to speak. "No. Don't say anything. I'm going to bed. Turn the lights off when you're done down here." He was babbling again, but he didn't care. Tony had never been shy when it came to intimacy, but this was way out of his comfort zone.

He didn't quite run from the kitchen, but it was damn close.

 

 

"Damnit, what the hell was that?"

In his bedroom, Tony paced. His flight suit lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and he was dressed in red boxer shorts. He couldn't get the memory of Loki's lips on his neck out of his mind. As far as mind fucks went, that was a pretty good one. He was shaken up and confused and, god damnit! Incredibly horny.

"JARVIS, what's he doing?"

_"He has returned to his room, Sir."_

He shouldn't look. Tony _knew_ he shouldn't look, but he couldn't help it. He picked up the tablet from the bed where he'd thrown it earlier and switched it on.

"Give me a visual."

Immediately an image of the guest room flashed onto the screen. Loki was in there, and there was just enough light for Tony to see him clearly. He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching as Loki pulled the shirt over his head. His torso was wrapped in bandages and he seemed agitated. Tony watched in silence, barely daring to breathe as though that might give him away, as Loki stripped off his pants and stood naked by the bed. Only his back was visible, long hair falling over his shoulders, sharp shoulder blades shifting with slight movement. Narrow waist and long legs that went on forever. He glanced up at the ceiling and turned, revealing the front of his body to Tony's hungry eyes. Oh god, he was hard, erection rising straight and proud from his body, his pale skin almost glowing in the predawn light.

"Don't. Oh, _fuck_..."

Tony cursed and couldn't look away as one pale, long fingered hand wrapped around his length. Loki sighed and his head fell back, eyes closed, slowly beginning to stroke himself.

This wasn't happening. He was not watching a god jerk off in the spare room. Tony bit his knuckles, overwhelmed by how unbelievably hot the scene was. Loki was like something out of a dream, something come to tempt and torment him. He should turn the damn tablet off and never think of this again, but his eyes were mesmerised by the movement of Loki's hand. Slow, sure strokes, light reflecting off the curve of his throat, the smooth expanse of his chest, those amazingly long legs.

Tony swore viciously and found his hand wrapped around his own hardness, flushed with heat and aching for release. He began to work himself, breathing hard as he watched Loki on the screen, mirroring his actions. Slow, excruciatingly slow. Loki's free hand travelled up the length of his body, skimming over his bandaged wound, arm crossing over his chest, palm sliding up to wrap around his shoulder as though he longed to be held.

A muffled groan fought its way free of Tony's throat when he saw Loki's lips part, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed becoming more rapid. The motions of his hand sped up and Tony kept pace, squeezing and stroking, feeling heat gather low in his belly, tension mounting. He couldn't hear anything from the other room, but he was sure Loki cried out. His back arched, head thrown back, hair hanging down his spine and his hand stilled, squeezing as he came, gasping for breath.

"Oh _fuck_!" Tony sped his own hand. He was close, so close. On the screen, Loki's head bowed, hair falling forward to hide his face. He stood there a moment, just breathing, then raised his head again and gazed directly at the hidden camera Tony was watching him through. No way. He couldn't know he was being watched. Heat flushed Tony's cheeks as those eyes, made no less intense by the small screen, pierced into him. He gasped once and came into his hand with a groan, eyes closed, shame and arousal hot in his palm.

When his breathing finally calmed and he could think straight again, Tony opened his eyes and glanced at the screen. Loki was gone, probably into the bathroom to clean up. He breathed a heavy sigh and turned the tablet off.

This was bad. Very bad.

 

~


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my lack of knowledge concerning the hacking of top secrect spy agencies :p  
> Notes concerning quotes at the end of chapter.
> 
> \--- EDIT 5/9/14 : Small edit to the last scene of this chapter. Hoping it reads more smoothly now.

_"Tony ..."_

Someone was calling his name. Tony sat up in bed, light fingers of sleep clinging to him, urging him to lie back down and succumb to their influence. He shook them off, tilting his head to the side, listening. The voice was faint, barely a suggestion of sound. He couldn't even tell if it was male or female.

_"Tony ..."_

"JARVIS? Who is that?" And how had they gotten into the tower? Tony waited for a response, but there was none. "JARVIS?"

_"Tony ..."_

"Pepper? Pep, that you?"

Frowning, he slipped out of bed and padded towards the door. It was still dark outside, but the arc reactor provided enough light to see by. In fact it seemed to be glowing brighter than ever, something that didn't escape Tony's notice as he made his way down the hall. Pale blue light chased shadows across the walls and the voice beckoned him on. He passed the closed door of the guest room and paused, wondering.

_"Tony ..."_

His feet had a mind of their own, following the voice, forcing him onwards. He ended up in the main area at the top of the tower, uncluttered and spacious, a well stocked bar by one wall, perfect for entertaining. A large bank of floor to ceiling windows made up another wall, providing an amazing view of the night-lit city. Tony was blind to it all - his eyes were fixed on the tall figure standing by the windows, gazing out at the twinkling lights. As he watched, the figure turned, and Tony saw Loki's face illuminated by the arc reactor.

He was dressed in full armour, complete with ornately horned helmet, and he held himself regally, no sign of the pain that had hounded him since his arrival. His eyes burned with their own inner light and Tony felt himself ensnared by them, unable to look away.

"What're you doing?" He asked dumbly, voice breathy in his throat.

Loki ignored the question, just lifted a hand and beckoned him closer.

"Come here."

Helpless to refuse, Tony crossed the floor between them. Up close, he could see clearly that Loki was revitalised. His eyes no longer lay in shadow, his face had lost its gauntness, there was no tension in his stance or the set of his shoulders. He was every bit the proud, beautiful, powerful god.

One pale, elegant hand reached out to touch his face, fingertips gliding over his cheekbone. Tony shivered under that touch, wanting to pull away, wanting more. Loki's hand continued its exploration of his face, tracing the line of his jaw, dragging nails slowly through his beard, following the curve of his throat down to his collar bones. All the while those vivid green eyes held his gaze, seeing everything, revealing nothing.

"What do you want from me?" He barely sounded like himself, breathless and uncertain.

"I want _you_."

Loki's hand pressed flat against his chest, the light of the arc reactor glowing between his fingers. Light that ran like liquid over the metal of his helmet and turned his face into something otherworldly. Tony felt his heart jump and struggle to maintain a steady pace. His entire skin tingled and his lips parted in a gasp as Loki's hand moved lower, tracing a cool path down his belly.

"I don't think I --"

Firm hands grabbed his hips, spinning him, thrusting him up against the reinforced glass windows. Tony felt the cool surface pressed against his back, through the silk of his boxers. Loki was close, far too close. Tony knew he should be putting up more of a fight, but he couldn't for the life of him think how. Or why. The god's presence was intoxicating. It felt amazing just to be near him, and the places where his hands touched ...

Tony shuddered as those hands slid up his sides, up over his chest, his shoulders, to cradle his face. One thumb brushed over his lower lip, inducing a tingle that echoed in his groin.

"You were saying?" Loki smiled, slowly guiding his thumb into Tony's mouth.

Tony had forgotten how to speak. He sucked on that digit, laving it with his tongue, lost in Loki's eyes.

"You've never done this before, have you?"

A small shake of his head, no. He'd never done this before. Not with someone like Loki. He never met anyone like Loki.

The god leaned in close, as close as he could without clashing against with window with his horns. His lips hovered by Tony's ear, his voice low and purring when he spoke;

"I will be the first man to kiss you." **

He shifted, nudging a knee between Tony's legs, gently but firmly brushing against his groin.

"To bed you." **

Tony trembled and his hands found their way to Loki's chest, clutching at his armour, whether to push him away or draw him closer, he didn't know.

"Whether you come willingly or not." **

Hot breath against his ear. His legs felt like they were going to give out beneath him. He gasped in a shaky breath, inhaling Loki's combined scent of leather and rain and pure masculinity.

"Oh god ..."

"You will be mine, and mine alone. _Do you understand?_ " **

Hips thrust against his own, fingers pressed almost painfully into his skin, angling his head back and to the side, baring his neck to lips that burned him like cold fire. Loki's mouth caressed him. His tongue darted out to taste his pulse, teeth lightly scraping the vulnerable curve of his throat. Tony groaned loudly. He needed those lips on his own. Needed to kiss him with an urgency he'd never felt before. He struggled to find the words, to make his voice work.

"... Please."

Everything stopped. Loki released him and stepped back, leaving him leaning against the glass, trembling in the absence of his touch. His eyes gleamed and his lips curved into a wicked smile that made Tony groan. Loki looked him over slowly then raised his chin, gazing down at him from under the curved horns. He spoke one word, and there was no refusing his tone of voice.

"Kneel."

Slowly, Tony sank to his knees, gazing helplessly up at the man before him.

"Pay tribute to your king."

He shuffled closer, closed his eyes briefly, and when they opened ---

 

 

\--- he was gazing up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Late morning sunlight filled the room and he was tangled in sweat soaked sheets. He lay there for a few moments, gathering his wits, trying to make sense of the scrambled mess his brain had become.

"What the ever loving fuck?!"

He sat up, heart thudding in his chest. A dream? A goddamn, mother fucking dream. Tony buried his face in his hands, smothering a groan. What was going on with him? A week of enforced chastity while Pepper was away and he was losing his mind! This was bad, even by his standards.

"Christ on a stick ..."

He scrubbed his face and raked his fingers back through his hair. It had been so vivid. He could still feel the echo of Loki's lips on his throat ...

"No. Don't even go there!"

He scrambled out of bed and cursed again as he glanced down at his overly excited body. Cold shower. Coffee. That should chase unwanted thoughts away. And if it didn't, well ... He'd deal with that when it happened.

 

 

Tony was at the kitchen table, nursing his second cup of super strong coffee and skimming news headlines on his tablet when Loki appeared. He stalked into the kitchen on quiet feet and nodded a greeting, looking sleek and well rested despite the dark circles under his eyes and his whiter than pale skin. Tony watched him, careful to keep his expression neutral. A little bit of accusation must have shown in his eyes though, for Loki paused by the fridge, looking wary.

"What is it?"

"What exactly can your powers do?" An idea had occurred to Tony while he was in the shower. One he didn't much like.

"Do?" Loki raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Like, Thor can do the thunder and lightning thing. What can you do?"

"Actually, it is Mjölnir that grants Thor that power. He is not a true sor--"

"That wasn't the question!"

Loki sighed. He looked away a moment and smoothed his hair back from his face, then turned his eyes back to Tony.

"Mine is the power of illusions. Shape shifting. Some healing." He hesitated a moment, brow furrowing unhappily, then added; "Ice."

"Hm." Tony raised his cup to his lips and took a sip, watching Loki over the rim. "What about mind control?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Or messing about with someone's dreams?"

If he thought Loki would give something away in his expression, he was to be disappointed. The god just frowned at him and shook his head.

"I do not possess that power."

 

Great. So either he was lying, or Tony had no one to blame for his fucked up dream but himself. He wasn't sure which was worse. He sighed heavily and drummed his fingers on the table. After a while he realised Loki was still standing there watching him, confusion making little creases at the corners of his eyes.

"That's all. You can run along. There's coffee if you want it."

Loki frowned at him some more, but asked no questions. He busied himself with the coffee machine, inspecting it closely as he tried to figure out how it worked. Tony watched him out of the corner of his eye and wondered if he should offer to help. After last night's little incident in the kitchen, he was in no hurry to get within touching distance of Loki. He seemed to get the gist of it pretty quickly anyway, filling a Stark Industries mug and taking an experimental sip.

Tony snorted a laugh when Loki's face screwed up and he made an entirely un-godlike noise of disgust.

"Problem?" He smiled sweetly.

"This is awful!"

"If it's not strong, it's not coffee."

The dark look Loki cast his way said quite eloquently what he thought of that statement. He found some milk, added two spoons of sugar, tasted it, then added another. Tony lifted his own cup to hide the amused smile that touched his lips. The big bad god had a sweet tooth, huh? Why did he find that adorable? He should _not_ be finding things like that adorable. Conflicting thoughts snapped at one another like vicious dogs in his mind. A new idea came to him and he set his cup down with a clatter.

"Hey. What about Barton and Selvig? You had them running around after you like happy little slaves last time you blew into town. What's the deal?"

"That was not me."

"Oh please, you think I came down in the last shower?"

"No, Stark." Loki shook his head and carried his cup over to the table, sitting down opposite Tony. He started to speak, bit off the words and paused a moment, then tried again. "Yes, I did it. But the power did not come from me. It was the sceptre. Without it I can no more influence a mind than you can." He folded his hands on the table and pinned Tony with his piercing stare. "Is there a reason for this onslaught of questions?"

"No, just curious." Tony tried for innocent and failed miserably. "What happened to that magic wand, anyway?"

"It was a _sceptre_. And I don't know. It was lost to me during the battle." His head tilted to the side as he thought that over. "I suppose I assumed your SHIELD gained custody of it." Loki grimaced and took a sip of coffee as though to wash away a bad taste in his mouth. "Not something I relish the idea of."

"Why, what would they --" Tony felt obligated to step up and defend his people but the words died on his tongue as he actually thought it through.

Loki nodded knowingly.

"You know."

Yeah, he did know. Tony thought back to the potentially catastrophic events of almost a year ago. In particular, he thought about the Tesseract , and how SHIELD had secretly been using it to develop weapons. It was no great stretch to assume that Loki's sceptre would be used the same way. Mass produced weapons capable of controlling minds. Now that was a scary thought.

Tony's fingers were drumming on the table again. He consciously stilled them and studied Loki's face, alert for any hint of deception. This was exactly the game he had played last time, sowing seeds of unease that threatened to tear earth's defenders apart.

As though he could read Tony's mind, Loki raised both eyebrows and lifted his hands in a 'hey, I'm harmless!' gesture.

"You brought it up."

"I did, didn't I ..." He remembered the helicarrier, and setting JARVIS to work poking through SHIELD's system. The shit had hit the fan and there hadn't been time to go through everything, much of which was heavily encrypted. There had been secrets, to be sure. Files with names like Phase Two and Hydra. Tony hadn't thought much of it since then, but now he wished fervently that there'd been time to back up all the stolen data. What else was SHIELD hiding? Now that the suspicion had gained a foothold in his mind, Tony couldn't shake it off, and he completely forgot about his worries concerning Loki.

"Entertain yourself for a while. Daddy needs to make some calls."

 

 

He retired to Pepper's office, locked the door behind him and sat down at the desk, cracking his knuckles as the computer booted up.

"JARVIS, ready to do some snooping?"

_"I thought you'd never ask, Sir."_

Tony chuckled; "That's what I like to hear." He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Okay. Let's see what skeletons Fury's got hiding in his closet."

Screens of data began flowing down the monitor as JARVIS slipped into SHIELD's system. There were a few pauses while his de-encryption program broke several layers of password protected data and firewalls, then he was in, and SHIELD's files were at Tony's fingertips.

"Nice work, J. Right. Find me everything on Loki."

Countless reports, all to do with the incident a year ago. Information on Loki's first appearance, his movements, his goals, directly related casualties. Speculation over what secrets might have been revealed when agent Barton was compromised. An in depth description of the glass prison used to contain Loki on the helicarrier and the measures taken to keep him there. Debriefings after the Manhattan attack. It was all very interesting, and all completely useless. Nothing Tony didn't already know. The only mention of the sceptre was a description of its apparent uses. No hint of what had happened to it after the incident was contained.

"Hmm." Tony drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the desk. "Widen search. Asgard."

A wealth of information regarding SHIELD's first contact with Asgard, describing the discovery of Mjölnir in Mexico and the resulting interactions with Thor.

"No, no ..."

More recent, the attack in London. Reports given by Jane Foster and Eric Selvig, describing something they referred to as the Convergence. Thor had disappeared before he could be questioned.

"Agh. Tesseract."

More information he already knew. Tony squeezed the bridge of his nose. This couldn't be the extent of SHIELD's data. Their secrets had secrets. There had to be more.

"Dig deeper JARVIS."

A long pause. A flashing light on the monitor.

" _I've encountered another level of security. It's heavily protected."_

"Can you get in?"

" _Not without being detected. I can break in, but the connection will be traced."_

"Damnit." Tony pushed away from the desk and spun his swivelling chair in a circle.

" _Shall I proceed Sir?"_

"No. Get out of there."

It wasn't worth the risk. The information he wanted might be there, but it might not, either. The odds weren't good enough for him to draw SHIELD's attention and having them breathing down his neck while Loki was here. It didn't escape Tony's notice that his hesitation had as much to do with Loki's safety as it did his own. Troublesome thoughts. He wondered when he'd started to care.

"Okay. Plan B."

 

Tony dug out his cell phone and sighed as he dialled Steve Rogers' number. This was going to take some real sweet talking on his part. The phone rang. And rang, and rang. Why was the world so unhelpful today? Tony was about to cut the call when someone picked up on the other end.

_"Hello?"_ Steve's voice sounded a little breathless.

"Hey Cap! Hope this isn't a bad time."

_"Tony? No, not a bad time. Just in the middle of a cardio session."_

"Doing your country proud old son." Huh, so much for sweet talking him. Tony spun his chair around so that he could gaze out the window.

_”Is there something you wanted?"_

"Yeah, actually. I need a favour. And I need you not to ask any questions."

A brief pause on the line. _"That sounds like something I don't want to have any part of."_

"Aw Steve, hear me out. You're all good buddies with the folks at SHIELD these days, right?"

_"I wouldn't say we're buddies. But I've been working with them, yeah."_

"Great," Tony smiled at the window. "So all I need is for you to do some poking around for me."

_"What for?"_ To say Steve sounded suspicious was an understatement. There was the sound of a door opening, then a background ambience of traffic. He must have gone outside.

"Okay, before I tell you, I need you to swear you won't blab this to anyone."

_"Tony --"_

"Swear it! On your spangley blue suit!"

Steve sighed. _"Okay! I swear I won't tell anyone. Now what's this about?"_

"Alright. Remember when Loki came to visit?"

_"How could I forget?"_

"Right, well, remember his mind controlling fairy wand?"

"Sceptre."

A voice behind him. Tony almost jumped out of his chair and spun around to find Loki perched on the edge of the desk.

"Christ! How did you get in here?" He hissed, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. The door was still firmly closed and locked.

Loki had the grace to look guilty. He shrugged and rolled his eyes off to the side.

"I may have neglected to mention that talent earlier."

_"Tony? Is someone there?"_

"No one here. Just JARVIS getting sassy with me." He glared at Loki and placed a finger against his lips, a silent demand to keep his mouth shut. "So yeah, the sceptre. Ring a bell?"

_"Sure. What about it?"_

"Ever wonder what happened to it after everything went down?" The silence on the other end of the line was answer enough. "Yeah, me too. I think the boys and girls at SHIELD have got themselves a new toy. I'd kinda like to know what they're doing with it."

_"What do you want me to do about it?"_

"I dunno, snoop around, see what you can find out." He watched as Loki idly pulled a couple of ball point pens apart - blue and red - swap the ink colours and put them back together. "You managed to sniff out the weapons they were hiding last time."

_"That was on a single ship. Have you been to SHIELD HQ? It's huge! And there's whole levels I'm not authorised to access."_

"I know it's a long shot. I just ... I've got a feeling about this. I think it's important."

_"Alright."_ A sigh. _"Alright, I'll see what I can dig up. But don't expect miracles, okay?"_

"You're good people Rogers."

_"You owe me, Stark."_

The line went dead. Tony hung up and fixed his gaze on Loki. Loki flashed an innocent smile.

"That seemed to go well."

"Yeah. What're you doing in here?"

A dismissive shrug. "I got bored."

"Ugh. You're as bad as a child." Tony shut down the computer then stood up and stretched. "I'm starving. Come on. I'll order us some food then find something for you to do while I get some work done."

 

+++

 

**Svartalfheim**

 

Thor set his jaw grimly as he touched down on Svartalfheim soil. The terrain remained unchanged; scarred and barren of life. His hair and cloak were caught up in a stale smelling wind and bruised clouds churned overhead.

"He should not be far from here." He called to his escort and set off in the direction the battle had taken place. It had been several days - between taking care of Jane and ensuring she was well after playing host to the Aether, then returning to Asgard to face his father, Thor had been busy. But he hadn't forgotten Loki's sacrifice, and every moment he was left alone among the bodies of the enemy was a pain in his heart. Now, he had finally found the time to return, and bring his body home.

Dirt and rock crunched underfoot. Thor tried not to imagine the bones of his brother there as well. Instead he thought of Loki as he had been - his constant companion, forever up to mischief, quick to laugh, always ready with a smile that set the glittering of Asgard to shame. His beloved little brother. He didn't understand how all that made Loki, _Loki_ , had become so twisted in recent times, turning him into a bitter parody of himself. It broke his heart to think on it. If only he had been a better brother. If he had seen more, done more, been less wrapped up in his own glory, perhaps events would not have lead to this day. Perhaps he would not be here now, seeking out his brother's corpse.

Several shapes not part of the landscape caught his eye and Thor's shoulders stiffened as he recognised the bodies of Malekith's fallen dark elves. All had met their end on the blade of Loki's dagger. Thor allowed himself a tight smile. Loki had never counted himself a warrior, but he had not been without skill.  
He looked around. Loki's body should be there, just over that slight rise in the land. With heavy heart and unwilling feet, Thor made his way towards it, mentally preparing himself for the sight of his brother claimed by death.

There was no one there.

Thor frowned and turned slowly, eyes scanning the immediate area. He was not mistaken, this was the place. The wind gusted, scattering dirt and ashes. This realm was without life. There was nothing here that could have taken the body.

"Thor?"

From a moderate distance, one of the escort called his name. Thor raised a hand to acknowledge he'd heard, but didn't look back. His face was grim and an awful understanding was beginning to form within him. No. He had to be sure.

"Widen the search." He called back to the escort.

They murmured among themselves and cast doubtful glances at him, but obeyed none the less. Together they covered the area in ever widening circles until they were several kilometres from the actual site. There was nothing but dirt and rock and mountains, and the ever present wind. Eventually, the most senior of the escort approached Thor and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"He's not here, Thor."

"I know."

A muscle in his cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw. Loki was alive. Horrible as it was to admit, even to himself, his brother's apparent death had eased a weight from Thor's shoulders. He'd felt responsible for Loki and had carried the burden of guilt ever since his attack on Midgard. Greater than that, had been the guilt that came from the knowledge of Loki's pain. For his part in it, and his inability to do anything to ease it. From knowing he could never fully trust Loki again. With Loki dead, both of their burdens had been lifted. They'd been freed. His eyes turned skyward, and a sick feeling twisted his stomach. Any joy that might have come from the discovery that his brother yet lived was lost in the certainty that Loki had betrayed him. Had he been playing Thor all along? Had he even truly been here, or was it all just more illusion? An elaborate ploy to escape the justice he deserved? Thor's hand clenched tightly around Mjölnir's handle and he cursed softly. If Loki knew of other hidden passes between realms, like the one that had taken them from Asgard to Svartalfheim, he could be absolutely anywhere by now.

"We return home." He turned back to the escort, face grim. "Odin must hear of this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Quotes from Tom Hiddleston's reading of 'The Red Necklace' by Sally Gardner. Because how could I not? Seriously. If you haven't heard it, you [should](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx_gYSCRPpw/).  
> Because god damn *fans self*


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of an edit to the end of the last chapter, I think Thor's reasons for jumping to the conclusion he did are a little clearer now.  
> And now, on we go!

Things were going well, Loki decided as he browsed a selection of scarves on the tablet Stark had let him borrow for the afternoon. He'd been a little worried he'd misread the human and moved too quickly last night, but Stark hadn't kicked him out yet, so he'd chalked up the encounter in the kitchen as a win. Truly, he shouldn't have doubted himself. After so much time living in Thor's shadow, Loki been given plenty of opportunities over the years to see desire in the faces of others. Over and over again, he'd seen men and women both fall for his glorious golden brother. Lust, infatuation, yes, probably even real love. Sometimes those looks were even directed at himself. He'd seen it all, and now, muted as it was, he saw desire in the face of Tony Stark. He saw the way he watched him when he thought he wasn't looking, dark eyes lingering on his lips or hands, nimbly skipping away when he suspected Loki might catch him at it. It was strangely invigorating, and Loki found himself greatly enjoying their little game of cat and mouse.

He scrolled the screen down, eyebrows raising in approval when he spotted a particularly appealing scarf.

_Add to cart._

Loki smiled to himself, perversely satisfied by the act of online shopping. He didn't have much of a concept of monetary worth, but was working on the assumption that more digits in the price meant the item was better, and therefore more worthy of him. Stark was going to regret handing over his credit card.

He was probably regretting a lot of things, actually. Loki thought back over their conversation that morning and the smile lingered on his face. The questions about dreams and mind control had been very interesting, leading Loki to assume that the man of iron had gone to his bed with some questionable thoughts on his mind. Little wonder, if his instincts had been correct and his own performance in the bedroom hadn't gone unwatched. It had been a spur of the moment decision - one that had paid off if Stark's behaviour that morning was anything to go by. And he still had three more days. Plenty of time to see this through.

The interest in the whereabouts of his sceptre was an added bonus. Loki truly hadn't thought to poke the coals of that fire - Stark had done that all on his own. But if he could somehow fan those flames and alienate Stark from his superiors and the other Avengers, this whole thing could turn out very profitable indeed.

 

_Checkout._

 

+++

 

Ever since Loki had woken and returned to the land of the living, Tony had found himself very aware of the time of day. Normally he would just work until hunger or tiredness - or JARVIS, he thought with a mental scowl - forced him to stop. Now he was taking care to note the passing of the hours so that he didn't miss important daily events, like meal times. It was like having a new pet that he needed to remember to feed. A gorgeous, exotic pet that refused to leave his thoughts for a single moment. He wondered what it would feel like to pet that glossy black hair ...

"Aagh, fuck!"

The screwdriver in his hand flew across the room, hit a wall and clattered to the floor. He didn't need to worry about SHIELD potentially messing with his thoughts, he was doing a good enough job of that all on his own. Tony looked around the workshop with a frown. Trying to distract himself obviously wasn't working. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe what he needed was to jump in the deep end, so to speak, and get this infatuation out of his system.

A strange, mixed feeling of dread and excited anticipation flooded through him. Could he go through with it? He'd never done anything intimate with another man before. What if it was disgusting? What if Pepper found out? Loki would only be here for three more days, surely he could control himself for that long. But ... what if the feelings didn't go away once Loki was gone? What if he spent the rest of his life wondering, 'what if?'.

Tony glanced at his watch again, reminded himself that it was nearing a respectable time to have dinner. He had to go up there, Loki would probably start eating the furnishings if he didn't feed him soon. And after that, well. Maybe he should just hit up his old friend Jack Daniel's and let Jesus take the wheel. A cop out if he ever heard one, but Tony was okay with that. Making big mistakes while under the influence of too much alcohol - it'd be just like old times.

 

+++

 

"The thing about women," Tony declared, taking a hit of whiskey from his glass, "is that they're so damn sensitive. If you're not there in the morning when they wake up, suddenly you're a pig of a man who deserves his balls cut off. And if you _are_ there, and, I don't know, _politely_ suggest they leave ... BAM! Total dick. It's not like I don't pay the cab fare." He shook his head, becoming disgruntled just talking about it.

Lounged in the recliner, Loki sipped his drink and nodded encouragingly.

"And don't get me started on 'committed relationships'." Tony made quotation marks in the air with his free hand. "Suddenly there's rules, and curfews, and you get bitched at for spending thirty six hours straight in the workshop. Then you have to talk about feelings, and she gets mad when you don't _want_ to talk and assumes something terrible must be wrong, and then she gets even madder when you won't tell her what's wrong, and by then you have a splitting headache and she starts screeching, and it's like, 'honey, I just worked thirty six hours straight. I don't want to talk, I'm tired!' and the whole thing starts again." A heavy sigh. "Women. I can't even - I just don't understand them." Another shake of the head, a swallow of whiskey. "What about you, Prancer? Are Asgardian women as crazy as the ones here?"

"Oh, most definitely." Loki held his glass up in front of his face, watching the light filter through the amber liquid. "I once spent a long stretch of time _as_ a woman, and I still don't understand them."

Tony thought about that for a moment. Thought it over some more. Yeah, he wasn't _that_ drunk. He'd definitely heard right. Either Loki was a lot drunker than he appeared, or this was some crazy shit.

"Wait wait, what? Back up. You can turn into a woman?"

A brief nod, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. Tony laughed and sat up straighter, planting his feet on the floor.

"Okay, you can't leave it at that. What kind of woman are we talking here? Like seriously hot, or just a five or a six, even with beer goggles on?"

At that, Loki looked insulted.  
"I cannot believe you asked me that."

"Sorry." Tony had the grace to look apologetic, then he grinned. "Show me."

A coy smile, a shake of the head. "No."

"Aw, c'mon Lokes." Tony whined, "Please?"

"Hm, I like it when you beg."

"Do I have to get down on my knees? I will. I'll do it. Pleeease show me."

Loki sighed dramatically. "Very well."

He set his glass down and adjusted his relaxed position, bringing his knees together and crossing his ankles primly. A shimmer of green and gold light washed over him, starting at his head and flowing down his body, all the way to his feet. Where the light touched, he _changed_. Tony watched in amazement as right in front of his eyes, Loki's hair grew out, his face became softer, eyelashes thickened, jaw less angular, lips full and sensual. Delicate shoulders, tiny waist, generous curves in all the right places, long, long legs. The only feature that remained unchanged was the eyes. They remained the same, large and vibrant and currently infused with a playful glitter. He - she? - was dressed in a short, slinky black dress that showed off her legs and some very distracting cleavage to full advantage. Long, slender fingers were linked and rested on her knees, and a knowing smile touched the corners of her sinfully red lips. She arched an eyebrow;

"Well?"

Tony, realising he was staring like an idiot, cleared his throat and tried to regain some composure.

"Uh, wow." _Nice one Tony, really articulate_. "That's ah, that's some trick."

Loki gave a throaty chuckle. "It has its uses." She examined her black painted nails, then looked up at Tony from under her eyelashes, waiting.

God, even her voice was sexy. Deep and slightly husky, with that almost-British sounding accent that made him all kinds of crazy.

"So, ah, you can do that whenever you want?"

A nod.

Tony smiled at the possibilities that opened up. He took a sip of his drink and another idea occurred to him.

"And you can choose to look however you want?"

Another nod.

"So the way you usually look, is that how you _really_ look? Or is that another illusion?" Tony eyed her suspciously. "Do you really have a face like a bucket of smashed crabs?"

"It is how I would appear were I full blooded Æsir." Her lips twisted with distaste. "I do not think you would find my true form as pleasing."

"Try me." As much as he appreciated this current form, Tony was always up for a challenge and was quick to make the call.

"No." A brief smile. "You've used up your party trick for the night."

"Aw, you're no fun."

Her smile widened and became more genuine. Slowly, she unfolded from the chair and stalked across the carpet in heeled, knee high boots to stand before Tony's couch.

"I do not recall saying the party was over."

Bending at the waist, Loki gently took the drink from his grasp and set it aside, then placed her hands on Tony's thighs and leaned in close, her hair falling in a glossy black curtain about her face. She gazed into his eyes for a long moment, and what she saw there, Tony could only guess at. Then she was kissing him, and things like thinking ceased to matter. Tony closed his eyes and drank in the feel of her cool lips, his fingers wrapping around her hands where they rested on his thighs. She tasted like strawberry lip gloss and her hair tickled his face, smelling of his shampoo.

Too soon, she broke the kiss and drew back slowly, eyes never leaving his face. Tony held onto her hands, preventing her from escaping completely.

"Don't go."

Voice soft, he tugged on her hand, urging her closer. A pleased smile curved Loki's lips and she allowed Tony to pull her down onto his lap, straddling him. Her short skirt rode up, exposing a good deal of thigh, pale and soft to the touch. Tony caressed that bare skin then let his hands glide up over her hips to hold her waist, and he leaned in and claimed her lips once more. Loki's hands pressed against his chest, feeling out the shape of the arc reactor beneath his shirt. He felt her surprise and the hesitation that came with it, then her hands moved onwards, one to clasp the back of his neck, the other to cradle his face.

By god, she was intoxicating! It would be so easy to lose himself within her and forget there was a world outside this room. All he cared about right then was Loki. All that mattered was that she continue kissing him and quench the fire in his blood. Tony wasn't so far gone, though, that he didn't notice the changes that took place between one breath and the next. Lips thinned and became firmer. The soft curves beneath his hands changed into lean muscles. Hips moved subtly, and an answering hardness met his own, brushing against him, making him shudder.

Gasping for breath, Tony pulled back and beheld Loki in his male form once more. Green eyes were aglitter with mischief, lust and dancing light. Neither of them spoke. As the silence stretched out between them, Tony felt his heart in his throat and saw the first hints of uncertainty spill over Loki's face. This was what he wanted, right? He swallowed hard and Loki chose that moment to begin to retreat.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have --"

"Wait." Tony reached out and grabbed his arms, fingers digging in as muscles flexed beneath them. His voice dropped to a bare whisper and he repeated his earlier plea; "Don't go."

Loki studied him with such intensity that Tony felt sure he must be seeing right through his skull and into his brain. Cool fingertips brushed over his lower lip and Tony's grip on Loki's arms tightened as he was reminded of his dream.

"What do you want from me, Tony Stark?"

He hesitated and Loki rocked his hips forward, grinding against him. Tony gasped and leaned forward to claim another kiss, but Loki held him at bay, hands firm and not to be argued with.

"Say it."

"I want ..." Words failed him as Loki's tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip, slow and deliberate. "Oh _god ..._ "

"There's no need to be shy." Loki's tongue curled up to caress his top lip, strong hands holding his face still. "Tell me what you want." His hips moved again and Tony groaned, thrusting up to meet him. "Tell me every wicked, debauched little thought that's going on in that wonderful mind of yours." Fingernails scraped along his jaw and down his throat. Loki's fingers dipped beneath the neck of Tony's t shirt and tugged it aside, exposing his collar bone. His head lowered and there he paused, breath warm on Tony's skin. "Tell me."

"Finish what you started." His voice came out harsher than he intended and his head was hazy with lust and alcohol fumes. Unable to resist any longer, he threaded the fingers of one hand through Loki's hair, and it was every bit as silky soft as he'd imagined.

"And what might that be?" In comparison, Loki's voice was smooth and completely in control. He let his lips brush over Tony's collar bones, pressed a kiss against the fever hot skin where they met. His tongue stroked the hollow of his throat then traced a line up over his adam's apple.

" _Fuck_." The hand in Loki's hair curled into a fist, pulling the strands tight. Loki didn't protest. He just slid a hand down Tony's chest, seeking and finding the hem of his shirt and slipping beneath it. Tony shivered as cool fingers stroked his belly and he couldn't help leaning into that touch, seeking more.

"Hmm? What exactly have I started here, _Anthony_?" Loki practically purred his name and his lips caressed his throat. "And how might I finish it?" His fingers trailed lower, toying with the button of Tony's jeans.

Tony groaned aloud and shifted his hips. He needed friction, anything, or this teasing was going to drive him insane. His free hand slid around Loki's waist and under the ridiculous Iron Man shirt, palm skimming up his spine, leaving a warm trail over cool skin. When he reached the gauze taped over his wound Loki hissed in pain and jerked away from his touch. Drunkenly remorseful, Tony began to apologise, but Loki grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him, hard enough to silence words and kill any brain cells that were still functioning.

"I'm not going to take you tonight." He said softly as their lips parted. Tony made a noise of protest but Loki overrode him, speaking in a tone of voice that said he was used to being obeyed. "You're drunk, and not in command of your senses. When I lay claim to you, I want you fully coherent." He leaned forward and spoke with his lips against Tony's ear. "I want you to call my name while I ravage you and tell me _exactly_ what you want. No innuendo, no dancing around the matter. I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me. Allow me to take possession of your body and use it as I will. Hold nothing back, and I will give you everything in return. I want you to remember every moment, and spend the rest of your days knowing you have lain with a god." His hips thrust forward, punctuating his words. Tony gasped and shuddered against him. "And when I am gone, you will _yearn_ for my return."

Loki's eyes were smouldering with promise when he drew back to gaze unblinkingly into Tony's face. It was difficult to hold that gaze, but Tony managed it, somehow. His skin felt flushed with heat and his uneven breath passed over parted lips.

"Don't go." He made the request a third time, but Loki shook his head and gently eased back out of his grasp. Standing before him, pale and beautiful, the god smiled.

"You know what to do." He extended his arms either side of his body and bowed, eyes never leaving Tony's face. As he rose, his form flickered with green light and he vanished.

Tony stared at the spot where he'd been standing and listened to the sound of his own breathing. He sat there for long minutes until it was clear that Loki wasn't going to return, then he groaned and shoved his fingers roughly back through his hair. God help him, he was in way over his head here. He glanced to his left and spotted his glass, abandoned and still holding two fingers of whiskey. His hand shook as he picked up the glass and downed its contents. The burn of alcohol steadied him somewhat, but did nothing to dispel the great need surging through him.

"Jesus Christ. I am so screwed."

 

+++

 

Loki stalked his room like a caged panther, trying to burn off excess energy. His long legs ate up the space between walls quickly and he found himself unpleasantly reminded of his prison cell back on Asgard. That wouldn't do at all. He cast his eyes to the shuttered window and was struck with the need to see sky. Even the muted Midgardian sky would be better than this cage.

"JARVIS, open the blinds. Please."

He still wasn't exactly sure who or what JARVIS was, and added the 'please' as an afterthought. It didn't hurt to be polite. Whether or not it was noted, he couldn't say, but the blinds over the windows slid back silently to reveal the New York skyline.

Loki sighed, and a little bit of the tension ran out of him. City light washed out the stars and cast the world in an orange glow. He stopped pacing and just stood there before the window, breathing in the quiet, willing his body to calm down. He wanted to go back down there and finish what he'd begun with Stark. Oh, he wanted that very badly. Somehow though, he kept himself in check. Now was not the time. It had taken the pain from Stark touching him to regain control of himself, but now that he _was_ back in control, Loki would not relinquish it again. And as much as he wanted to go and fuck Stark senseless, he couldn't do it. Not yet. If Loki took him in his current drunken state, Stark would be able to take refuge in that alcoholic haze. He could tell himself he'd taken leave of his senses, or that Loki had taken advantage of him. And that wouldn't do at all.

Whether it was true or not, an unwilling sexual encounter would drive a wedge between them faster than anything else. Whereas on the other hand, some good old unresolved sexual tension would kindle their fledgling friendship nicely.

Friendship. What an odd word to describe their relationship. Yet given time, Loki thought it could be true. In spite of his constant self reminders that Stark was a tool to be used and nothing more, Loki found himself liking the man. He was snarky and intelligent and interesting. Not to mention distractingly attractive. If they'd met under different circumstances, in an earlier time, Loki thought they could have been friends. A real friend. The kind to share laughter and tales of conquest, explore the nine realms, devise ever more devious pranks, and fuck into the mattress afterwards.

A pleasant fantasy, but a fantasy, none the less. Eventually Stark would remember who Loki was and what he had done. Fates willing, Loki would be sufficiently healed when that day came, enough that he might leave this cursed realm and make his way alone.

He would be better off alone.

 

+++

 

When Tony awoke he spent a frantic, disorientated moment trying to figure out where he was and why he wasn't in his bed. He sat up and his head spun, and he groaned as memory returned. Right ... He'd been drinking. Must have passed out on the couch. He made a face and dragged his hand through his hair. It had been a long while since he'd gotten blackout drunk. Funny how it had kind of lost its appeal.

"Ugh. What time is it JARVIS?"

" _It is 4:27am._ "

Damn. He should have been good for at least another eight hours. He thought about rolling over and going back to sleep but his back twinged a protest, already unhappy about the brief interlude on the couch. Bed it was, then.

Tony dragged his feet to the elevator and yawned all the way to the top floor. He was practically sleep walking when he stepped out into the hallway, setting a course for his bedroom.

When the frightened scream rang out and broke the silence like fragile glass, Tony swore and almost stumbled, plunging back into full wakefulness. His entire body quivered and his heart hammered in his chest as he hovered on the edge of action. He knew that voice, but he'd never heard it in such a tone before. It had gone beyond fear, into pure terror.

 _Loki_.

Tony's feet were moving, running towards Loki's room. A second scream pierced the night time stillness and his blood ran cold. What could make a god sound like that?

He burst through the guest room door to find Loki thrashing in his bed. The blinds were open and orange citylight poured in through the window, casting a sickly glow over Loki's pale, sweat sheened skin. He was moaning, eyes tightly closed, face drawn in lines of horror.

"Loki!"

Tony approached the bed, not knowing what to. Were you supposed to wake someone having a nightmare or leave them be? He couldn't remember. Loki's voice broke on a sob and he thrashed weakly, droplets of sweat standing out on his brow. That made Tony's decision for him.

"Hey, Loki! Wake up!"

He climbed onto the bed and reached out to touch Loki's shoulder. His skin was cold and clammy, the muscles beneath rigid with tension.

"C'mon Lokes, you're having a nightmare." Tony shook him gently. "Loki, --"

A hand shot out, impossibly strong and wrapped around Tony's throat, fingers closing like a vice. Loki surged upright, eyes wild and panicked, teeth bared in a snarl.

"Loki!" Tony choked out and grabbed Loki's wrist with both hands. He couldn't breathe. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes. He wondered, with a touch of desperation, if he was going to take another flight through a window. "Loki it's me -- it's Tony." His lungs screamed for air. He clawed at his throat, trying hopelessly to dislodge those cold steel fingers. Loki's face wavered in front of his eyes. "Loki ... _Stark_ ..."

Slowly, so slowly, recognition filtered into Loki's eyes. His grip on Tony's throat eased and he fell back, gasping for breath.

"Stark ...?" Arms wrapped around himself, fingers digging into his flesh. "I'm sorry, I ..."

"It's okay, no harm done." Air wheezed into his abused trachea. He was almost definitely going to have bruises, and it was going to hurt like a bitch in the morning, but now was not the time to mention that. Tony placed a hand on Loki's leg beneath the covers and tried to make his voice soft and soothing. It came out strained and raspy, but the words were still there. "It's okay. You were dreaming."

"Dreaming ..." Loki closed his eyes and shuddered, and in that moment looked more vulnerable, more _human_ than Tony had ever seen him. His chest heaved like he'd just run a marathon and his shoulders were slumped. "Just a dream. By the Norns ..." Voice barely a whisper he shook his head, and when his eyes opened they were naked, stripped of all grandeur and deception.

"You're okay now." Tony didn't know how to deal with that level of emotion. Everyone he'd ever known had always looked at him with some measure of barrier between them. It was basic self preservation, you didn't open yourself completely to someone, ever. But right now there was nothing between himself and Loki. Just huge green eyes, deep enough to drown in, and a well of unspoken truth. "You're okay." He repeated stupidly and touched Loki's shoulder, gently urging him to lie back down.

Loki obeyed, breath coming out in a shaky sigh as his head touched the pillow.

"Sleep." He said softly. He pulled the blankets up over Loki's chest and rested his hand there. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

At that, Loki frowned. "Don't make promises you cannot keep." But his eyes were closing, and soon sleep was upon him once more.

Tony watched him as he relaxed, his breathing evening out, the harsh lines fading from his face. He wasn't sure what had happened here tonight. Something important. Something words could not describe.

"I always keep my promises."

Truth.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the support so far guys! This is my first real fanfic and I'm having a blast writing it ^_^  
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://deikakanna.tumblr.com/), come say hi!


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late this week. This chapter was kicking my arse. I offer you smut as apology!

**Asgard**

To say Odin was displeased with him would be an understatement of grand proportions. Thor had stoically endured the fury of both his king and his father, but the disappointment was harder to bear. Yes, he had put an end to Malekith and his plans for the Aether, but he had disobeyed direct orders and committed treason in order to do so. It didn't matter his intentions, he had freed a prisoner of war and enabled him to escape the justice he deserved. Thor had thought he'd seen Odin angry the time he went to Jotunheim, but this was worse. Odin didn't shout and rage, but his voice quivered with barely suppressed anger, and the disappointment in his single steely eye was enough to make Thor feel like a child again.  
When it was over, Thor left Odin's hall, charged with the task of tracking down Loki and bringing him back to face justice. Thankfully, this time Odin didn't deem his folly great enough to strip him of his power and the ability to wield Mjölnir. He would have need of both if he was to succeed in his task.

Before he left Asgard, Thor stopped by the prison armoury to collect a few things - tools of restraint that would prevent Loki from using his magic to escape once he'd been apprehended. The thought of using them on his brother unsettled Thor badly, but he'd been left without a choice. Loki had chosen his fate when he ran.

With no more reason to linger, Thor set out across Bifrost to meet with Heimdall.

 

"You are to leave us again." The guardian's face was impassive and betrayed no clue as to how he felt about the matter.

"I do as I must." Thor's own face was grim. "Have you seen where I might find Loki?"

Heimdall nodded. "He takes refuge on Midgard."

"Midgard!" He growled the word. "Has he not had his fill of that realm? Fates have mercy on him if he has done more harm there."

"Loki has caused no disturbance." Heimdall's golden eyes stared unblinkingly into Thor's. "But there is something you should know. He is under the protection of one of your human allies. The one known as Iron Man."

"Stark?" Thor frowned, bewildered by the revelation. "Why would he ...? It matters not," He decided. "Tony Stark is a good man, there must be reason for his actions."

Heimdall looked like he wanted to say something more, but merely nodded and kept his mouth shut. Thor noted the look, but as he'd never exactly been the most patient of men, decided to ignore it. He had a lot on his mind and lacked the time or inclination to interrogate guardians who saw too much for their own good. If it was important, Heimdall would have just told him, right?

"Let us be on with it."

"Where would you have me send you?"

Thor thought about that for a moment before answering. "The headquarters of SHIELD." It would have been his preference to go straight to Stark, grab Loki and be done with it, but since that approach hadn't gone so well last time he tried it, Thor decided haste might not be the most effective method in this case. There was the matter of Loki being under Stark's protection, for starters. It would be better to seek out his Midgardian allies, inform them of Loki's escape and formulate a plan.

"Wish me luck?" He tried for a smile as Heimdall hefted his sword and slid the blade into the golden mechanism.

The guardian looked at him without reply, then nodded and said cryptically; "You will need it." He twisted the sword and lightning filled the chamber, crawling over the curved walls, setting the air to crackling. Thor straightened his shoulders as the walls began to rotate, faster and faster, preparing for the plunge through the cosmos. It came with the same rush it always did, flooding him with adrenaline, a formless wind in his hair and cape, light and colour streaming by without beginning or end.

Then his boots set down firmly on solid ground, and it was over. It was early morning, and the now familiar sights of New York City rose up around him, a large building that could only be SHIELD Central but a few metres away. Thor glanced upwards and nodded a salute, knowing Heimdall would be watching. He then set his sights on the building and strode towards the front entrance.

In the entrance foyer, weak autumn sunlight beamed in through a multitude of windows, a dozen or so people scattered about looking busy. Some of them snuck glances at Thor and murmured to one another, but most simply ignored him. Unable to spot any familiar faces, Thor approached a brunette woman sitting behind a desk. She smiled at him as he drew near, but there was a wary suspicion in her dark eyes, no doubt brought on by his attire and the weapon at his belt.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I would have words with Director Fury. Is he present?"

The woman arched an eyebrow. "Do you have an appointment?"

"I am afraid I do not. However it is a matter of great importance, I am sure the Director --"

"Director Fury is very busy." The woman interrupted smoothly. "If you'd like to make an appointment I may be able to schedule you in sometime in the next month or so. Until then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Thor frowned and had to check the urge to draw Mjölnir and threaten his way inside. That wasn't how things were done here.

"I am Thor Odinson of Asgard." Though he spoke relatively quietly, there was thunder in his words. "I have travelled a long way and I bear news that the Director will want to hear. I think, if you were to ask, you would find him eager to speak with me."

The receptionist's eyes widened marginally and she stared at Thor for a good ten seconds before reaching for the phone at her elbow. She spoke quickly and in a low voice, stealing glances at Thor, gesturing with her free hand to make some unseen point. Finally, she hung up the phone and offered a tight smile.

"The Director will see you now. If you take the elevator, he'll meet you at the top floor." She nodded to the bank of elevators nestled into a wall across the foyer.

"You have my thanks." Thor inclined his head, the expression on his face more a baring of teeth than a smile. Intimidating mortals wasn't as entertaining as it might have been a few years ago, but he was gratified when she leaned back in her chair and visibly swallowed. If the situation weren't so dire, he might have felt guilty. As it was, Thor turned on his heel without further delay and strode for the elevators, pressing the call button repeatedly until one of the doors opened to admit him.

He rode the car to the top floor with barely contained impatience, and stepped out to find the dark, familiar figure of Nick Fury waiting for him, as promised.

"Director, it's good to see you."

Fury stared at him, his single eyed gaze reminding Thor of his father. "Wish I could say the same, but I get the impression this isn't a social visit."

"I fear not."

"This have anything to do with London?"

"London? No." Thor followed Fury down a brightly lit hallway and into an office. "Not directly."

"Good. You left us swinging in the wind on that one."

"Apologies. Were I not pressed for time, I would have remained to inform you of what happened. Jane assured me she would --"

"Yeah, your girlfriend filled us in." Fury leaned against the edge of his desk, arms folded across his chest. "So what's this new emergency that just couldn't wait?"

Thor's expression darkened and he spoke without preamble. "Loki has escaped. He fled to Midgard, I am here to bring him home."

"Son of a bitch." A growl. "Tell me everything."

\---

When he was done explaining the situation, Thor pressed his lips together and fell silent, awaiting Fury's response. The Director had begun pacing halfway through the tale and paused now behind his desk, gazing out the window.

"Fucking Stark." He sighed heavily and turned around to face Thor. "Do you think he's compromised? Could Loki be screwing around with his head like he did with Barton?"

"I cannot say." Thor wished he had more to offer. "It is possible." Where Loki was concerned, anything was possible.

"Shit." Fury swore bitterly and reached for his cell phone. "Sit tight, I'm calling in the team."

 

+++

**Stark Tower**

Loki lay on his back in the morning quiet, gazing at the ceiling and listening to the breathing of the man propped against the side of his bed. The horrors that had awakened him during the night had faded from memory, leaving little more than shadowy tendrils that stroked the edges of his mind and dissipated in the sunlight. It shamed him that Stark had seen him like that. He was no child that needed comforting after a bad dream, and yet, though he would never admit it, he had been glad to waken and find he was not alone. It may even have worked out in his favour, if Stark's continued presence here was any indication.

He turned his head on the pillow. He couldn't see Stark's face, just the unruly shock of dark hair and the curve of a cheek bone. What was he still doing here? Had he watched over him all night? Loki wished he could feel more triumphant about that. His hand slid across the blankets, but paused before his fingertips touched Stark's hair. He felt _something_. A strange, unfamiliar warmth that had nothing to do with games and manipulation. This was something else. Something that made him hesitant to break the silence. An ache right in the centre of his chest, a warmth that wrapped gentle arms around his heart.

Loki frowned and curled his fingers into a loose fist. This was not part of the plan.

 

+++

 

Tony awoke to a couple of bony fingers prodding him in the back of the head. He muttered something incoherent and swatted at the air in front of his face, like that would do anything useful. The prodding let up for a moment, then a whole hand smacked him upside the head.

"Stark, wake up."

"Ugh! What? I'm awake." He yawned wide enough to split his head in two, then winced at the ache in his neck, the throbbing in his brain and the unsettled churning of his stomach. Good morning, hangover.

"Have you been here all night?"

A little belatedly, Tony cracked his eyes open and realised where 'here' was. He was sitting on the floor of the guest room, back rested against the edge of the bed. No wonder his damn neck was sore. Wait a minute. That mean the persistent voice belonged to --

"Oh, hey Beanstalk." He twisted around to find Loki laying on his side, gazing down at him with a thoughtful expression on his face. His long hair was tousled from sleep and the faintest hint of a smile touched one corner of his lips. "Yeah, guess I fell asleep." Tony grimaced. How to make a retreat without looking like he was running away? "Did someone mention coffee? Coffee sounds great."

He started to rise, placing a hand on the mattress for support, and froze when Loki reached out and wrapped his fingers around it. Loki looked as startled by the action as he felt, but he didn't let go. His fingers tightened almost defensively around Tony's hand and when he spoke his voice was soft.

"You stayed here all night. With me."

"It's no big deal." Tony tried his best to shrug it off, not wanting to make it into a big issue. He didn't know himself why he'd stayed. In the wake of Loki's terror, it had just seemed like the thing to do. It wasn't because he was worried about the god, or anything crazy like that.

The look on Loki's face said he saw straight through the bullshit. "The longer I spend in your company, the less I seem to understand you."

"Yeah, well." Tony shrugged. "Can't be boring, gotta keep people guessing, right?"

"You are many things, Tony Stark. Boring is not one of them."

Those green eyes were way too intense for this hour of the morning.

"Aw shucks, stop it, you'll make me blush -- whoa!" As he spoke he tried once more to gain his feet, and fell forward onto the bed when Loki tugged on his hand. Their eyes met and Tony was sure Loki must be able to hear his heartbeat, it was pounding so loudly. He didn't know what to do, caught between the need to escape and the desire to stay where he was.

Shitballs, this was bad. There was no whiskey haze and lowered inhibitions to hide behind, just him, and a pair of the most amazing green eyes he'd ever seen, threatening to swallow him whole. He saw the tip of Loki's tongue peek out to moisten his lips, felt the gentle squeeze of his hand.

"What are you doing to me?" Loki's voice was barely a whisper, a heartfelt plea for an answer Tony didn't posses. What was _he_ doing? He was busy trying not to drown. What was _Loki_ doing? When no reply was forthcoming, the god lowered his eyes, eyelashes brushing his cheeks like butterfly wings. He released Tony's hand and lifted his own to cradle his face, his skin cool and soft.

Tony found himself leaning into that touch, his own eyes closing. Even without sight, he knew it when Loki leaned in towards him. He felt the mattress shift, the gentle brush of his breath and the tingle in his skin before their lips met. As far as kisses went, it was incredibly chaste, just a light, lingering press of lips. Yet somehow, it managed to be the most intimate thing Tony had ever experienced. Time seemed to hang in place. For the space of a heartbeat, for an eternity, he kissed Loki, and it felt _right_. Every logical reason as to why this was a _very bad thing_ flew straight out of his head, and all he could think about was that for the first time in his life another person felt like _home_. But eventually, as it always must, the moment passed. Tony drew back and scrambled away from the bed, leaving Loki where he was, eyes still lowered.

"Coffee, right. On it."

And like a big fucking coward, he got the hell out of there.

\---

Coffee, a shower and a couple of pain killers made everything better. Or at least, it cleared some of the fog out of his brain and allowed him the luxury of thinking. By the time he'd consumed his second cup of coffee, Tony had almost managed to convince himself that the little scene in the bedroom had been nothing more than leftover hormones from the night before. He certainly was _not_ developing _feelings_ for Loki. The very idea was insane. Yes, he could admit he was slightly, inconveniently attracted to him, but that wasn't the same thing. Not the same thing at all.

_What are you doing to me? ..._

Faaaark. Think about something else. Do _not_ think about the way those words had caught in Loki's throat, or the aching vulnerability in his eyes. Don't think about that sweet, tender kiss and imagine it growing into the hungry passion of the night before. Don't think -- Damnit, he was thinking about it!

Tony groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was in so much trouble. And the worst part was, he wasn't even sure if he wanted out. This little dance Loki had him performing was exhilarating and _interesting_. Tony Stark didn't do boring, and when he stopped to think about it, that's what his love life had become of late. He thought the world of Pepper and would personally kick the ass of anyone who said otherwise, but she wasn't ... She wasn't exciting and dangerous and forbidden. She wasn't Loki.

An annoying buzzing sound came from the intercom on the wall, jarring Tony's headache.

"Ugh. JARVIS, who's that? Tell them to go away."

_"Delivery, Sir."_

A delivery? Tony perked up at that. He liked getting presents. He didn't recall ordering anything, but to hell with it, it was a welcome distraction. "I'll be right down."

 

Tony arrived downstairs to find a large box sitting in the doorway. He glanced down at it, then out the door to the curb where a delivery guy was wrestling another box out of the back of his van. The hell?

"Hey! You ah, need a hand with that?"

"Nah mate, I got it." Looking a bit red in the face, the delivery guy staggered across the sidewalk and set the box down with a grunt. "Oof. You starting a library or something in there?"

A library? Tony cast an eye over the box, his gaze snagging on the label which displayed the name of a large bookstore chain. Understanding began to dawn on him.

"I felt like ... reading." He offered weakly. Damn Loki! Tony had suggested he pick out a couple of books to give him something to do. He hadn't meant to buy out the whole bloody shop! "That all?"

"One more."

The third box didn't look as heavy as the last. Tony felt a little green when he thought about what else Loki might have been spending his money on. He was still eyeing off the boxes when the delivery guy cleared his throat and held out a clipboard.

"Need you to sign for all that, Mr. Stark."

"Right. Gotya." Tony grimaced and made some awkward little hand movements as his tic about being handed things kicked in, but he managed to accept the clipboard and sign his name before things got too weird. "Thanks man. Love your work."

"Yeah. Have fun with your reading."

Tony watched the van drive away then turned his attention back to the boxes. He nudged one with his foot and resisted the urge to rip it open and snoop through Loki's purchases right there on the street. Get the stuff inside, then snoop. Pleased with how he'd prioritised the situation, Tony got to work.

It took a few trips, but he carted everything inside, then into the elevator and up to the living quarters of the tower. All the working out he'd been doing was paying off - that box with the books was heavy! Then, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, Tony found a box cutter and began breaking into the packages. The first, as he already knew, was filled with books. Dozens and dozens of them, novels, collections of plays, non-fiction spanning a broad range of subjects; it really was the beginnings of a personal library.

"Lo-ki!" God, he sounded like his father had when Tony had screwed up as a child.

Shoving that thought into the dark recess of his mind where it belonged, Tony cut open the next box. Clothes. He pulled out a pair of skinny black jeans that were almost definitely designer brand and had probably cost something in the range of $800.

"Jesus Christ. Loki!"

The god in question appeared around the corner and sauntered down the hall. He had a coffee cup in one hand, was dressed in only his sweatpants and looked absolutely delicious. Tony had to give himself a mental shake and remind himself that he was mad at him.

"The hell is all this?"

"Ooh, did my things arrive?"

"Yeah." Tony watched as Loki's face lit up like a kid in a candy shop. He brushed his fingertips over the spines of the books, studying the titles before selecting one. Tony caught a glimpse of the cover and was hard pressed not to smile. Shakespeare. Well damn. The guy had been listening to him after all. "Just what are you gonna do with all this crap when you leave?"

Loki looked up from the box of clothes, the book tucked under his arm, a few garments hanging from his other hand. He flashed a smile that made Tony equally want to kiss him and wring his neck.

"I thought I'd leave them here, for when I come to visit."

"Visit?!" Tony yelped. "Hold up there princess, I never said anything about --" The words kind of faltered off when Loki sidled up to him, kissed his cheek and plucked the jeans from his hands.

"Thank you Stark." Another wicked little grin. Loki handed him the empty coffee mug, slipped past him and wandered off in the direction of his room, leaving Tony bewildered and not quite sure what had just happened. He hadn't just agreed to let Loki visit, had he? He'd meant to shoot that bird down, pronto, but it hadn't quite worked out. Yep, trouble. With a capital T.

 

+++

 

**SHIELD Central**

Steve let his eyes rove from one face to the next, trying to gauge how each of the team felt about Thor's bombshell. Thor himself looked impatient and ready for action. Fury was doing his name proud, pacing and emanating displeasure like an angry storm cloud. Natasha was quiet, her face shuttered and distant, eyes fixed on a point on the carpet, her brain very obviously going a million miles an hour. Bruce was just as quiet, his brow creased with worry. Clint was already gone. He'd been assigned the task of gaining intel - strictly from a distance. Fury didn't want Tony, and by extension, Loki, to know they were on to him. And Steve, well, he wasn't sure what he thought about it all. The news that Loki was back in town would have been bad enough on its own, but when paired with Tony's weird phone call yesterday it became a whole lot worse. If Loki was after the sceptre he could be fairly certain Tony hadn't been brainwashed, but that didn't mean he wasn't doing Loki's bidding. A man could be threatened into doing all kinds of things. Still, Steve wasn't ready to assume that their teammate had been compromised. He'd been arguing that they should be planning a rescue mission. Fury, on the other hand, was adamant that Tony be considered a threat and act accordingly.

"At least let me call him." Steve tried again. He hadn't told them all that he'd spoken to Tony yesterday. He wasn't sure why. Perhaps Tony's suspicions about the sceptre had rubbed off on him. Whatever the reason, he didn't feel comfortable mentioning it in Fury's presence. "If he's in trouble, he might be able to let something slip."

"Fine." Fury turned his single glaring eye on him. "But watch what you say, I don't want Loki knowing we're on to him. Romanoff," He turned on Natasha. "Keep an open channel with Barton. I want eyes on that tower."

"He's almost reached the roof of the building across the street." The faraway look was still on Natasha's face.

"Alright Captain." Fury nodded to him. "Make your call."

Steve pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and dialled Tony's number.

_Come on Tony, pick up._

 

+++

 

**Stark Tower**

After leaving the boxes in the hall where he'd dumped them - the last turned out to be filled with more clothes, namely boots and coats - Tony had returned to the kitchen for more coffee. He'd considered adding a bit of Irish to it, but decided against it. It wasn't the pre-noon hour that did it. Niceties like that were of little concern to him. It was beer o'clock somewhere in the world. No, it was the slightly blurry memory of Loki's words last night that kept him from the bottle. The memory of his lips and hands and body, and the promise of so much more to come. All Tony had to do was remain sober, and ask for it.

A shiver ran through him and his hands tightened around the coffee cup. Loki was in his bedroom. He could go up there right now and ...

Tony pushed the cup away and surged to his feet, pacing restlessly around the kitchen. Why was he fighting this so hard when he wasn't even sure it was a fight he wanted to win? Loki had been on his mind ever since he arrived. Now that he'd had a small taste of what it would be like to be with him, there was no way Tony was getting out of this infatuation without going all the way. So then. Tony sighed heavily, knowing he'd already made the decision.

"Fuck ..."

 

He knocked on the door, waited until he heard permission to enter, slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Loki was sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was dressed in those skinny black jeans and a slim fitting black shirt with a V neck and a slender green line running down each arm from shoulder to wrist. His hair was damp and slicked back from his face, and his feet were bare. An open book lay on his lap, and the intensity in his green eyes pinned Tony to the spot.

"Stark." He said by way of greeting.

"Loki." Amazed his voice still worked, Tony cleared his throat and found himself uncharacteristically lost for words.

Loki tilted his head slightly to the side and arched one elegant eyebrow. "Is there something you wanted?"

Bastard, like he didn't already know. Tony cleared his throat again, lifted his chin a little. "I'm sober."

"I noticed."

"Haven't had a drink all day."

"Admirable."

Tony's heart rate kicked up a notch. "Do your terms from last night still stand?"

Loki gave a cat-like smile and tilted his head the other way. "Of course." His mouth parted slightly, the tip of his tongue visible as it darted out to touch his top lip. "What would you have of me?"

Tony leaned back against his hands, feeling the smooth surface of the door beneath his palms.

"I want ..."

"Yes?" Anticipation and no small amount of amusement glittered in his eyes.

"I want you."

A wicked smile. "You're going to have to do better than that."

Damnit, he really was going to make him say it. Tony bit back a snarky reply and instead forced out the words that would end this little standoff.

"I want. You. To fuck me. Right now." He held that green eyed gaze, determined not to look away. " _Loki_." The name was an exhalation of breath. His heart pounded. He didn't dare move.

Loki's smile was the definition of the cat who'd gotten the cream. He casually marked the page in his book and set it aside, eyes slowly raking Tony from head to foot and back again.

"Well then." He patted the mattress beside him. "You had better come over here. I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good."

Tony flushed when he caught his meaning. The reality of what he was about to do hit him and he almost turned tail and ran, but Loki's eyes reeled him in and he found himself walking towards the bed. The mattress dipped as he climbed on and Loki shifted, giving him more room. Sunlight beamed in through the open window and made the god's eyes sparkle. Now that he was here, Tony didn't know what to do. He knew what he'd do if he was with a woman, but this was ... different. Loki seemed to sense his uncertainty, for he smiled gently and reached out to touch Tony's face, fingertips light on his skin.

"Relax. I will not harm you."

He shifted again, moving behind Tony. Firm hands pressed against his back and slid upwards, kneading the tense muscles through his shirt. The hands reached his shoulders and Tony sighed, relaxing by increments. He could feel Loki moving, rising up on his knees to lean against his back, breath warm against his ear.

"I confess, I'm glad you came." His tongue darted out to trace the sensitive shell of Tony's ear. "I want to be inside you _so badly_."

Tony couldn't help the groan those words brought to his throat. He leaned back against Loki's chest, and the god's breath whispered past parted lips as he reached over Tony's shoulders and found the collar of his shirt. Deft, slender fingers sought out the first button and opened it, then proceeded to the next, and the next, slowly pulling the shirt open and baring his chest. Leaning over one shoulder, Loki ran his hands over Tony's pectoral muscles, hesitating at the edges of the arc reactor.

"What is this?" He murmured, lips back at Tony's ear.

"Nothing ..." This close to Loki, Tony could barely think let alone string together an intelligent sentence. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like 'nothing'." Loki traced the skin around the reactor then touched the device itself, running a finger over the raised circumference. He pressed his lips to the soft patch of skin behind Tony's ear, delighting in the shiver that ran through his body when he gave that spot a small lick.

"Keeps me alive." Tony angled his head to give Loki better access, uncaring that he was giving away extremely sensitive information. Without his suit, it wasn't like Loki couldn't kill him on a whim anyway. He didn't think Loki was going to kill him, though. The hands that caressed his chest and shoulders certainly didn't seem to have his death as their intent.

"Interesting." A low purr. Loki gripped the edges of Tony's shirt and pulled sharply, snapping open the final few buttons. Cloth whispered as he guided it back over his shoulders, down his arms and threw it away. His arms slid around Tony's waist, the bed moving as he shifted again, pressing himself closer, bracketing Tony's hips with his thighs.

Tony could think of much more interesting things, namely the not so subtle hardness that rubbed against his lower back. He reached back, splaying his hands over Loki's denim clad thighs, feeling the lean muscles beneath. A harsh breath escaped his lips as clever hands traced random patterns over the taut flesh of his abdomen. Heat pooled low in his belly and flooded his groin. He tried to move, wanting to see Loki, but strong arms held him fast, one at his waist, the other across his chest.

"Please ..."

"No." The arm at his chest moved, hand sliding around to grip his jaw and angle his head back, exposing his throat. "Mine to use as I please, remember?"

Tony groaned but made no further protest. As though to reward him, Loki rose up again and kissed the side of his neck. Slowly, languidly, tasting his flesh, exploring his skin. The hand at his belly stroked him again, tracing the ridges of muscle.

"Stay."

The firm grip on his jaw eased. Tony trembled but kept his head tilted back as cool fingers trailed down the centre of his throat. Very gently, they wrapped around that vulnerable column and squeezed, just enough for Tony to feel the strength in his hand, feel his pulse hammering against it.

" _Mine_."

He gasped when Loki bit him, and couldn't stop the reflexive jerk of his hips as the hand at his belly slid lower, palming the growing hardness in his pants. Teeth dug into his neck, fingers flexed, and Tony shuddered, caught between stillness and the need to _move_.

"Loki ..."

"Mmmmm ..." A pleased rumble. Loki eased back, kissed the indentations his teeth had left in Tony's flesh. His hands slid away and he pressed another kiss to the spot between his shoulder blades. "Turn around. Lie down."

Tony obeyed. What else could he do? He lay back, propped against the pillows and drank in the sight of Loki. He was still fully dressed, but there were glimpses of pale skin that teased - slender, long fingered hands, the graceful curve of his throat, a hint of collar bones that peeked out of the low neck of his shirt.

"Kiss me." A husky demand.

Loki smiled, his eyes falling to Tony's lips. He eased forward, spreading Tony's knees and gliding between them, placing his hands either side of Tony's body and supporting himself on his arms.

"You would make demands of me?"

"I would."

Tony reached up and grabbed a fistful of Loki's shirt, pulling him down to claim his mouth. He'd expected resistance, but Loki opened to him with an eagerness that made Tony want him all the more. He kissed him hungrily, as though he meant to consume him. Loki tasted like rain and too-sweet coffee. His lips parted and he allowed Tony's tongue inside, letting him stroke, explore, dominate. A low groan that was pure sex sounded in Loki's throat. Tony swallowed it down and sucked on his lower lip, wanting to hear that sound again. Wanting to hear Loki make it for _him_. He released his hold on the god's shirt, bringing both hands up to frame his face, one sliding further back to curl a fist into his damp hair.

Loki shifted his weight, balancing on one arm as he slid a hand between them. He found the waistband of Tony's jeans, and Tony's hips jerked at his touch. Quick fingers navigated the button and zipper, then his hand slipped inside, stroking Tony through his boxer briefs. Tony gasped and broke the kiss, giving Loki the chance to swipe his tongue lazily over his lower lip.

"Mine." He repeated and drew back completely, pulling until Tony released his hair for fear that he'd rip a handful out.

His hand rubbed firmly against Tony's cock, winning another gasp. Tony fisted his hands in the bedspread either side of his body, raising his hips obediently when Loki began to remove his pants and underwear. They slid down his legs with a crumple of heavy fabric, and cool air touched him.

"Man of Iron." Loki smirked.

Tony looked down in time to see pale fingers wrap around his straining length. He groaned and bucked his hips, and when he noticed Loki watching his face it was too much, he had to close his eyes. Sensation nearly overwhelmed him. He felt Loki stroke him experimentally, gentle, then more firmly, learning what would get the best reaction. His thumb rubbed over the weeping crown, spreading the pearly liquid in slow circles. Tony shuddered and bit his lips together to keep from moaning. No one had had this effect on him before. No one, ever.

Hands on his knees, urging him to spread his legs wider. Tony complied, and shivered as cool fingers whispered down his inner thighs.

"If only the world knew, this is all it takes to silence Tony Stark." Loki mused, speaking more to himself than to Tony, who would have argued if his mind wasn't completely empty of witty comebacks.

As it was, he just lay there and a different kind of shiver washed over him, like prickling static. It raised every tiny hair on his body, and he heard the soft sound of a bottle being uncapped. There was movement, then one of Loki's hands came to rest lightly on his belly.

"Anthony, look at me."

He shook his head and muttered, "Can't."

Fingernails scraped his sensitive skin, hard enough to leave marks. "You will _obey_ me, mortal." There was heat in those words, soft and velvety and scorching. "Open your eyes. I want to see them when I take you."

"Oh god ..." Tony's eyes reluctantly fluttered open, and he saw Loki smile.

"That's right. _Your_ god." Loki ran a slippery fingertip down the underside of Tony's cock. "Tell me, are you a praying man?"

Tony gasped when that fingertip found its way to his entrance and gently brushed over it. "No, never ..." If he was going to back out, now was the time. His eyes met Loki's, saw the hungry lust that he was sure must be reflected in his own, and knew that wasn't an option.

"Hmm. Perhaps you should start."

Loki's fingers were long and slender, and he pushed only the tip inside, but it was enough to make Tony catch his breath and tense every muscle in his body.

"Relax ..." Loki murmured softly. The lofty god was instantly gone from his demeanour. Right before Tony's eyes, he transformed into a simple man, guiding his lover through his first time. The fires in his eyes were banked and his gaze was gentle. "That's it. You're okay, I have you."

Tony exhaled slowly, trying to relax as the probing finger slid further into his body. There was some pain, but it wasn't terrible, and Loki was careful with him. So careful. Eventually the finger was pushed all the way inside and Loki held it there, letting him adjust.

"You should see the look on your face right now ..." Loki sighed and licked his lips. He slowly drew his finger out, then pushed it back in, his movements smooth and easy. "Innocence and wantonness fused into one. It is ... beyond description." His free hand coasted up the centre of Tony's body, veering off to the side when it reached the arc reactor to rub over a nipple. At the same time, he carefully inserted a second finger, making Tony gasp and arch his back.

"Ha, I don't think anyone's ever called me innocent." He tried for levity and almost succeeded. It was hard to act nonchalant when all he wanted to do was writhe under the skilled hands playing his body like a musical instrument.

"We all have some measure of innocence within us."

"Even you?"

Loki smiled at that, but his eyes looked sad. "Even me." He whispered, and curled his fingers slightly, making Tony squirm with unexpected pleasure. He continued working his body, adding another finger, coaxing him to open.

Tony groaned and shifted his hips, urging Loki on. This slow manipulation was a torment. He needed what Loki had promised. He needed all of him.

"Loki ..."

"Mmm, I like it when you say my name ..." He continued the slow thrust of his fingers, voice a velvety purr.

"I need you, now." Tony wrapped his hand around the one on his chest, so cool against his own fevered skin. "Need you inside me ..."

Loki paused and did that cute little head tilt that made Tony want to pet him and jump his bones. "Are you sure?"

"Ngh! Damnit! Fuck me, Loki. Right now."

The god hissed and asked no more questions. Tony made a small sound of protest when the fingers slid from his body, even though he knew they would soon be replaced by the piece of anatomy he so desperately craved. That same static shiver danced over his skin and he realised it was a reaction to the use of magic when Loki's clothes vanished in a wash of green light, leaving him naked, pale and perfect. Like the rest of his body, his erection was long and elegant, and Tony trembled at the sight of it.

Loki relinquished his eyes long enough to pick up the small bottle he'd conjured up earlier and pour a generous amount of some kind of oil onto his fingers. His eyes returned to Tony's face, but all of Tony's attention was on that hand, watching with lips parted as he smeared the oil onto himself with slow, sensuous strokes. It reminded him of the night he'd watched Loki alone in his room, and his breath caught in his throat.

Strong hands slid behind Tony's knees, encouraging him to bend and lift his hips up off the bed. He hooked his feet over Loki's broad shoulders, heart racing as the god moved into position.

"Now none may dispute my claim. You are _mine_."

Slowly, steadily, he pushed his way into Tony's unresisting body. Tony felt himself being filled up, impossibly full. It was liberating in a way he'd never felt before, to give himself over to someone so completely, to _trust_ with absolutely no reservations. His breath came out in a heavy rush and his head fell back against the pillows as he felt Loki become still within him, as far inside as he could go.

"Oh _god_. Ahh ... Oh fuck."

"Hmm." Loki made a pleased sound, the self satisfied smile audible in his voice. Supporting Tony's hips with his hands, he withdrew slowly, almost completely, then thrust himself back inside in one smooth motion.

"Oh _fuck!_ " Tony writhed beneath him. "More. Harder."

Loki's eyes burned green fire and his fingers flexed, digging into Tony's hips. "Are you certain? I don't want to hurt you."

A shaky laugh rose on Tony's lips. "Last time we met, you threw me through a window. I think I can take it."

Loki took him at his word. He began to move, picking up speed and momentum, settling into a steady rhythm. Every now and again he hissed and his pace faltered, and Tony realised through his sex clouded mind that Loki's wound was hurting him.

"Are ... Agh! Are you alright? If you're in pain --"

"I am fine." Loki growled, and angled his next thrust so that he hit Tony's prostate, sending all coherent thought clear out of his head.

"Fuuuck ..."

_"Shoot to thrill, play to kill, I got my gun at the ready gonna fire at will ..."_

Without warning, Tony's groans and their mingled heavy breathing were drowned out by a blast of AC/DC.

" _'Cause I shoot to thrill and I'm ready to kill, I can't get enough and I can't get my fill._ "

Loki faltered, a confused frown creasing his brow, and it took Tony a few scrambled seconds to realise the music was coming from his pants - his cell phone was ringing. He met Loki's gaze and shook his head.

"Don't you dare stop."

Loki's teeth flashed in a feral grin and he thrust into Tony with renewed vigour. The phone went silent for a few seconds, then began to ring again.

"Agh, you're kidding me! JARVISSSS, take a damn message! --- Ugh! Oh yeah, that's it. _Fuck_ , Loki you are a fucking god! Yes! There! Shit, don't stop, don't stop! ..."

The music cut off, but Tony didn't notice either way. His hips jerked in time with Loki's thrusts and one hand found its way to his aching cock and began to pump it roughly. His breath came out in harsh gasps and grunts and his skin was sheened with sweat. Every thrust was hitting his prostate, sending sparks of intense pleasure through his cock. He could feel the white hot pressure building, building, like a huge wave cresting, pausing in that moment before it comes crashing down.

"Come for me Anthony." There was a rough edge to Loki's voice, a tremor that suggested he was close to losing control. "Give me your offering."

Close, so close. Tony panted, trying to hold on, to prolong the pleasure for as many seconds as he possibly could. But there was no holding back the tide.

"Oh god, _Loki_!" The name was a prayer on his lips as the wave crashed down over him. He cried out and hot seed spilled over his hand and belly, his inner walls clenching around Loki.

Loki growled low in his throat and his fingers dug into Tony's hips. His thrusts became short and hard and he actually closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. The pale curve of his throat, the expression on his pleasure slackened face, it was the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen. Loki gave a wordless cry as he came, filling Tony with liquid heat.

For several long minutes they remained like that, panting in the quiet, basking in the afterglow. Tony sighed when Loki slowly withdrew from his body and collapsed onto the bed beside him. A pale arm slung over his chest, skin warmer than usual, fingers brushing over the arc reactor with idle, sleepy movements.

"Mine ..." He said softly, and Tony could find no reason to disagree.

 

~


	8. eight

"Tony, it's Steve. Call me back when you get this, okay? I need to talk to you. It's important. Okay. Um, bye. Call me. Bye."

Steve grimaced as he hung up the phone. He hated leaving messages, he always ended up sounding stupid and awkward. Hopefully Tony would call him back soon and laugh at him about it. A worried frown creased his brow as he lifted his head to face the team. The way Tony had spoken yesterday, Steve would have thought he'd be sitting by the phone, waiting for news. That he wasn't picking up didn't bode well.

"Got his answering service." He said pointlessly, wondering where this would go from here.

"He's in bed with Loki." Natasha looked up from the floor, one hand hovering by her ear piece. Her face was carefully blank, but her tone left no room for argument.

Steve tried anyway, "We don't know that for sure. He's probably just busy in the workshop. Just because he isn't answering the phone doesn't mean he's in league with --"

"No, I mean, he's in bed with Loki. Literally." Natasha twisted her lips into a moue. "Clint has a visual."

Steve's brain did a little double take as that sank in. He knew same sex relationships were more common in this decade, but wow. That was unexpected. Two spots of colour flushed his cheeks as he thought about it and struggled to find something to say.

"What?!" Thor surged to his feet, looking scandalised. Mjölnir crackled with electricity as he ripped it from his belt, and he looked ready to leap out the window and fly off to kick someone's ass. Whether it was Loki or Tony, Steve wasn't sure. "He is having his way with my brother?!" Okay, definitely Tony getting the ass-kicking.

"Other way around, actually." Where Thor's voice was raised and appalled, Natasha sounded like she was commenting on the weather. Her eyebrows lifted briefly and a flicker of interest passed across her face. "Never would have picked Tony for a bottom."

Steve flushed a little brighter as unwanted images popped into his head. He was never going to be able to look at Tony the same way again.

"Well there you have it." Fury was fuming. He glared at Steve as if this was all somehow his fault. "Any more opposition to dealing with this cluster fuck in the making?"

From the other side of the room, Bruce cleared his throat. Steve turned to him in alarm, irrationally afraid the shock of the revelation was going to make him lose control. In this enclosed space, that would be a real disaster. The scientist just removed his glasses and began to clean them on his shirt.

"Is it, ah, consensual?"

"What?!" Thor was practically bellowing. He turned on Bruce and Mjölnir crackled a warning. "Are you implying my brother would ... would --" He broke off, seeming unable to say the word.

"He doesn't have the best track record, Thor." Bruce said quietly. In comparison to the thunder god, he seemed small and benign. Steve hoped he stayed that way. "Last time he was here, he killed a lot of people and brainwashed a bunch of others. Is this so far a stretch?"

"Yes." Thor said matter-of-factly. He lowered his hammer, but still looked unhappy with the turn the conversation had taken. "I know Loki. He is not without fault and must answer for his crimes, but I believe there are yet limits to what he will do. He would not force himself on someone. Not in that way."

Natasha nodded confirmation. "Clint says Tony looked pretty willing to him." A brief smirk crossed her lips. "He also said he's going to need a month's leave while he gets his eyes lasered." The last was directed at Fury, who just scowled at her.

"If you're all finished, I'd like to get this under control before it becomes another major incident."

Steve didn't like the sound of that. He needed to talk to Tony before he ended up in a lot of trouble. More trouble than he was already in, anyway.

 

+++

 

"You surprised me again." Lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, Loki watched the steady rise and fall of Tony's chest as he breathed. Or more precisely, he watched the arc reactor. Every so often he reached out to touch it, inexplicably fascinated by it. Usually Tony didn't like anyone touching the part of him that was so detrimental to his continued existence, but he found he didn't mind when Loki did it. Weird.

"Oh yeah?" He lay on his back, gazing up at the ceiling. "How's that?"

"I thought you would last at least another day before you came to me." Tony turned his head just in time to see the smirk form on Loki's lips. "Seems I overestimated your self control."

He thought about being pissed that it seemed to have been a foregone conclusion that he would end up in Loki's bed. He tried to glare at him, but the expression didn't stick. He laughed instead, and covered his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, well. I'm not too good with the whole delayed gratification thing."

"I noticed." Loki's voice was smug. He traced a cool fingertip around the edge of the arc reactor.

"You weren't complaining an hour ago."

"Oh, I'm not complaining now." His smile widened. "It was a pleasant surprise, Anthony."

Tony scrunched up his face beneath his hand. "What's with that 'Anthony' crap? No one calls me that."

"Good." Loki leaned over him and moved his hand out of the way so they could see eye to eye. "It is mine. Like you are."

The words caused an uneasy flutter in Tony's stomach. Loki had become extremely possessive, very quickly. That in itself didn't bother Tony so much - he actually kind of liked it, in a weird sort of way. What worried him was the fact that he didn't think Loki understood who Pepper was, and what kind of relationship they had. And he had the feeling that once he found out, Loki wouldn't take it well. As for Pepper, well. Tony knew how she'd take the news that he'd cheated on her. To put it mildly, she would not be happy.

"You, ah, you remember you're leaving tomorrow, right?" Tony wasn't sure if he could get out of this without causing World War III, but he'd give it a damn good try.

"That was our bargain." Loki was still leaning over him, hair hanging down to tickle Tony's face. "I had rather hoped we might renegotiate."

Crap. He gave Loki a nudge, pushing him away so he could sit up. "Whoa, slow down guy. What is this? We fuck once and now you want to move in together? I thought that was just a lesbian thing." Tony forced a laugh, but Loki just stared at him, a faint crease forming between his brows. He tried again; "This ... _thing_ we've got going on here, whatever it is, you know it can't happen." Shit, he could practically see the barriers coming up in Loki's eyes, shutting himself away. Tony forged on, relentless. "I'm an Avenger, and you're ... you."

"A little late to be concerned about fraternising with the enemy, isn't it, Stark?"

Uh oh, he was back to 'Stark'. _Tread carefully, Tony_.

"Yeah, I'm kinda known for making bad decisions. One of my specialties, really."

"And I am a bad decision." This said flatly, no inflection in his voice whatsoever.

Tony winced. "Yeah. But it's nothing to do with you." Nice one. Give him the old, 'it's not you, it's me' line. That'll make everything better. "You know I'm with Pepper, right?" Damn, it was unnerving the way Loki stared at him like that. Barely blinking, his eyes giving him nowhere to run.

"You would discard me for your _human_." He said 'human' like it was a dirty word.

"Hey, not discarding. No. But yeah. She and I, we're sort on in a monogamous relationship, y'know? If she found out about this she'd toss me through a window."

The joke went straight over Loki's head. He stared at Tony some more, then reached out and splayed his fingers over the arc reactor. Where his fingertips touched skin, Tony felt tiny shivers rising to the surface.

"She does not move you like I do." This said with all the confidence in the world.

There was no arguing with it. Tony tried his best to dance around the statement. "It's not all about great sex. We get each other. We've got trust, and mutual respect."

"And love?" Loki asked scornfully.

It was on the tip of Tony's tongue to agree, but he found himself hesitating. Did he love Pepper? It wasn't something he'd ever really asked himself before. Things with Pepper were nice and comfortable, but was love part of it? He didn't know why he was hesitating. Even if it wasn't true, he shouldn't be feeling guilty about lying to the God of Lies. Maybe it was because he knew Loki would see straight through him. So he ignored the question and snapped back on of his own.

"Pfft, what, you confessing your undying love to me?"

"We are not discussing my feelings." Loki's eyes were a silent accusation.

Tony swore and rolled off the bed, gaining his feet and backing away. "We are not having this conversation." He grabbed the bundle of his clothes off the floor and pointed a finger at Loki. "You're leaving tomorrow. End of discussion."

He didn't wait for a reply. Hoping he wouldn't end up with a dagger in his back the moment he turned away, Tony stalked out the door and slammed it behind him.

Why was he so angry? Tony didn't know, and that pissed him off even more. He was doing the right thing. Allowing Loki to stay was just asking for all kinds of trouble. He should have kicked him out the moment he set foot in the tower.

_And where would Loki be now if you'd done that?_

His conscience nagged at him. Dead, probably. That's where he'd be. Funny how the thought of that made him feel worse. Shit. The sooner Loki got the hell out of here, the easier Tony's mind would rest. He did not need this kind of emotional conflict in his life.

Back in his own room, Tony tossed the bundle of clothes on the bed and made a beeline for the shower.

 

+++

 

Loki supposed he should be used to being abandoned by now. That didn't make it hurt any less. A deep, almost physical hurt, right in the centre of his chest. He sat cross legged on the bed, shoulders hunched, replaying the argument with Stark over in his mind. Things hadn't turned out at all like he'd planned. Somehow, instead of Stark begging him not to leave, he'd ended up pleading to stay. It was pathetic. He scowled at the empty room, more angry at himself than with Stark. What had happened to, 'better off on his own anyway'?

The truth was, the previous night had changed things, and Loki knew it.

_I won't let anything happen to you, I promise ..._

_What are you doing to me? ..._

He'd been attracted to Stark from the beginning - he wouldn't have been able to stomach touching him otherwise. But the rest ... One small display of kindness and he'd gone weak in the knees. It was completely unacceptable. Loki's life and continued freedom were on the line. He couldn't afford to let something like _feelings_ cloud his judgement. Feelings ... That was the worst part, because he was certain Stark felt something as well. If he would just stop being so stubborn and admit it ... Loki allowed himself a wry smile at that. If that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black, as the Midgardians liked to say, he didn't know what was.

He sighed and dragged the fingers of both hands through his hair, pulling it back from his face. He thought about leaving tomorrow, and a cold hand clenched in his guts. His body wasn't yet completely healed, but his magic had replenished enough that he could defend himself if the need arose. To what end, though? How long and far could he run before he was finally caught by the noose hanging over his head?

_He comes for you. Your anguish will echo throughout the ages ..._

_I won't let anything happen to you, I promise ..._

He thought about what his mother would say, were she here now. She would council him towards truth, he was sure. Truth ... Almost a foreign concept, for one such as he. It was easier, safer to lie, especially to himself. Did he really believe Stark could protect him from Thanos? No. But the truth was, he was frightened, and he wanted him to try. He wanted someone to care enough about him to risk everything for his sake. He wanted the comfort of knowing he was not alone. Truth ...

Loki closed his eyes, and when they opened he had come to a decision.

Truth ...

 

+++

 

The shower was a hot, steamy haven. Under the steady flow of water, Tony could drown out the turmoil in his head and pretend all was right with the world. His body had begun to ache and the hot water helped with that, too, easing away all the little hurts, helping him relax. Showers were wonderful things, really. He turned his face upward into the spray, sighing contentedly as the water beat down against his closed eyes. This was good. Maybe he should just stay here for the rest of his life. Yeah, good plan.

A faint noise and a rush of cool air broke Tony from his reverie. He turned, startled, and could only stare in shock when he beheld Loki standing before him.

"I would have words with you, Stark."

"Uh, kind of in the middle of something here." Flustered, and annoyed, Tony very pointedly kept his eyes on Loki's face, ignoring his nakedness in what he thought was an amazing display of self control. "Can it wait?"

Loki's eyes did that slow glide down his body, his gaze so intense Tony could almost feel it brushing over his skin. When their eyes met once more, Loki shook his head fractionally and stepped into the shower, closing the door behind him.

"No. I don't believe it can."

Tony couldn't help it. He watched as rivulets of water ran down Loki's pale, perfect body and was struck by the desire to follow those trails with his tongue. His breath caught and he reached out a hand, touched fingertips to the front of Loki's body and dragged them downwards, stopping just short of the angry red scar. It looked like weeks of healing had taken place, rather than a few days. Tony hesitated, then gently traced his fingertips over it, the skin slick and shiny under the running water. Loki shivered and when Tony glanced up, saw that his lips were parted, his eyes unfocused.

"So ah, what did you want to talk about?"

When Loki gave no reply, Tony caught him about the waist with both hands and bent, giving in to the urge to lick the water from the scar. Loki shuddered and the sigh that gusted past his lips was audible over the running water.

"Talk?" When he finally spoke, Loki's voice was breathy. Tony looked up at him, and the expression on his face was that of a man rising from a dream. He licked his lips. "I can think of much better uses for your tongue right now ..."

Tony could take a hint. All his earlier misgivings about having been intimate with Loki went clear out of his head, and his hands pressed flat against the god's chest as he leaned in to swipe his tongue over the hard bud of a nipple. Before, it had all been Loki. He'd been in control, he'd directed the course of events, and Tony had been helpless to do more than lie back and enjoy the ride. Now he couldn't keep his hands off Loki. Or his mouth, for that matter. He drew the nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, rolling his tongue against it. He scraped his teeth gently over it and pulled, and the breathy noises Loki made in response were absolutely delicious. Tony turned his attention to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. His hands slid down Loki's sides, slipped around behind him, over the small of his back to grab his ass. He squeezed and heard Loki mutter something that might have been his name.

It was a new kind of intoxicating, discovering he could make a silver tongued god speechless with just a few touches of his hands and mouth. He moved down Loki's body slowly, licking away trails of water, tasting the salt of skin and sweat. When he reached the scar again Tony paid it extra attention. He caressed it with his tongue, feeling the shudder that ran through Loki, hearing the almost pained sound that stuck in his throat. His fingers sought out the matching scar on his back and pressed against it, a little harder than he should have, just to hear that sound again.

Loki obliged him and reached down to tangle his fingers in Tony's hair. Tony expected to be pulled away from the spot that obviously still caused him pain, but Loki surprised him, drawing him closer, encouraging him. Kinky bastard. Tony grinned and licked the scar harder, fingering the one on his back with small, suggestive movements.

"Mmm ... Anthony ..."

Definitely his name that time. Tony had never heard it spoken in such a way that it sounded like a dirty word. It made him sink to his knees, one hand sliding down to grip the back of Loki's thigh. The other hovered over his growing erection, hesitating briefly before wrapping fingers around it and squeezing gently. Touching him was different to being touched _by_ him. There was power here on his knees, a power that made itself known when Tony leaned in and took him into his mouth for the first time. Loki groaned and threw his head back, hands leaving Tony's hair to brace against the sides of the shower. It made Tony wonder how long it had been since Loki had allowed someone else to touch him like this. It made him want to make sure Loki didn't regret it.

He pressed a kiss to the head of his cock, parting his lips after a moment to suck the crown gently and probe the slit with the tip of his tongue. His hands moved to Loki's hips, holding him steady as he trembled. Confidence growing and incredibly turned on himself by the feeling of Loki hardening inside his mouth, Tony sank down, engulfing him in wet heat.

Loki groaned long and low and there was a squeaking sound as his hands slid against glass. Tony was learning on the fly, but he'd always been quick to pick up new skills and this was no different. He ran his tongue down the underside of Loki's cock, then sucked as he rose back up. Loki's hips moved for him, silent encouragement, and the water beat down on his back.

Tony's hands began to roam, down to the backs of Loki's knees, fingers lightly caressing the soft skin there, then back up, up over his thighs and the curve of his ass. His flexed his fingers into those firm cheeks, pulling Loki towards him, swallowing as much of him as he could. He didn't make it all the way, but Tony felt sure that with practice he'd get there, no problem. Somewhere in the still-thinking part of his brain it worried him that he was contemplating a need for practice. That would imply Loki was going to be sticking around. More, that he _wanted_ him to stick around.

Tony groaned aloud at the mess in his mind, not considering what that sound might do to Loki. The god shuddered as vibrations ran down his cock, his hands suddenly coming down to grip Tony's hair.

"Enough," he gasped, pulling Tony away from him. "Stand up, now."

"What?" Tony blinked up at him, confused. Had he done something wrong?

" _Stark_." Loki's eyes were dark, his voice lacking some of its usual composure. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?"

Oh. "Oh!" Tony began to rise and Loki dragged him the rest of the way to his feet, spinning him around and thrusting him roughly against the wall of the shower. " _Ohhh!_ " There was pressure at his entrance, then the glorious feeling of being filled by a hardness slick enough that magic had definitely been at play. Tony didn't care. He pressed his palms to the wall and pushed back against Loki with a grunt of effort.

Loki growled and dragged his head back by the hair, sinking his teeth into the trapezius muscle between neck and shoulder. Tony groaned again as Loki began thrusting into him. There was none of the gentleness of their first time together. This was rough and animalistic. Loki held him like he truly meant to claim him, body and soul, and in that moment Tony wanted nothing more.

Heavy breathing, gasps and moans, the slap of wet bodies meeting, the steady stream of falling water. Tony's hand found its way to his neglected cock and began working it with a sense of urgency that came from his very core. Loki held his torso tightly enough that it was almost hard to breathe, and he angled Tony's head back and to the side, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. Tension, pressure and heat built fast and before Tony was really prepared for it he was coming, his cries of release lost in Loki's mouth. Loki clung to him as his own climax hit, releasing his mouth to bury his face in Tony's shoulder, entire body going rigid.

In the steam filled aftermath they gradually relaxed. Loki slipped out of Tony's body and both arms wrapped around him, no longer crushing him, but holding him close all the same. Tony closed his eyes and let his head fall back against Loki's shoulder, holding onto the warm arms wrapped around his waist.

When he felt sure of being able to speak, Tony chuckled and patted Loki's bicep.

"Good talk."

He felt Loki's lips press against his cheek, felt them curve into a smile. The low rumble of laughter that vibrated against his back was almost better than the sex.

 

~


	9. nine

After they'd dried off and dressed, they went to the living room to talk. Tony tucked himself into the corner of the couch, but Loki remained standing, pacing about the room with a restlessness that put Tony on edge. For a long time neither of them spoke. A tense silence stretched out between them until Tony finally cracked, unable to take it any longer.

"You wanted to talk."

Loki fixed him with a look that suggested he'd just asked him to swallow glass, but he nodded minutely. And said exactly nothing. Tony sighed impatiently.

"Well, talk. This is about not wanting to leave, right?"

"Yes ..." Loki stopped his pacing by an armchair, hesitated, then sat down on the very edge. Long hands hung down between his knees, fidgeting restlessly. If Tony didn't know better, he'd have taken that movement for a nervous tic. What could Loki possibly have to be nervous about?

"You're not going to make me drag this out of you one word at a time, are you?"

Loki speared him with a sharp glance. "Believe it or not, this is difficult for me."

"Sorry." And he was. God knew there were things he had difficulty talking about himself. Still, the impatience lingered. "So ... Why do you want to stay so badly? And don't give me any sentimental crap about it being because of me, because I know that's bullshit."

"I am afraid ..." He spoke so softly Tony almost missed it.

"What did you --"

"Don't make me say it again, Stark." Loki looked up from his hands. Tense lines creased his brow and his eyes were guarded. "... Do you recall me saying that I am wanted by a great many enemies? That my life is forfeit should they take me?"

"Yeah." Tony scratched his goatee, thinking. "I thought you meant Thor and everyone from Asgard."

"Thor ..." A sigh, a shake of the head. "Thor would merely kill me." He visibly paled. "There are far worse things than death."

Tony watched him rise and begin pacing again. "Who, then? If it's not Thor, who wants you so bad?"

Loki circled the chair, placed his hands carefully on the backrest. "Did my brother ever tell you about my fall from Bifrost?"

"No."

Thin lips pressed tightly together. He seemed reluctant to go on, but eventually sighed and continued his explanation. "He had just returned from exile and sought to steal both my vengeance and my birthright. We fought on the bridge. He overpowered me, and ... threw me into the abyss."

Tony saw the shudder than ran through Loki's body, and felt an answering shiver in his own. He had seen the abyss for himself. He'd felt its cold touch, the incredible vastness, the terrible emptiness. He'd almost died there. It was a mix of pure chance and dumb luck that he'd escaped that fate. The knowledge of how close he'd come to death still haunted his dreams. Tony wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly cold despite the climate control.

"Thor wouldn't ... he wouldn't do that, not to his brother." He couldn't believe it. Thor _loved_ Loki. It was too awful to think about.

"He _did._ " Loki snapped, eyes flashing. He looked like he wanted to tear something apart with his bare hands. "I fell, and there was nothing I could do to save myself."

"How did you survive?" Tony asked in a hushed voice.

"A sick twist of fate, perhaps." There was no humour in the brief smile that touched his lips. "I don't know how long I drifted there. Only that I was plucked from the void by a being known as Thanos."

"Lucky." Tony murmured, more to himself than Loki.

"Lucky?" Loki had begun pacing again, but he froze on the spot, turning to pin Tony with the full force of his green eyed stare. "Luck had nothing to do with it. Luck would have had Thor kill me and be done with it. Luck ..." He snarled and fell silent for a time.

Tony didn't press him. Now that he'd begun, Loki would finish the story. It was up to Tony to sit and listen, to take on part of the burden of a tale he doubted Loki had ever told anyone else. When finally Loki spoke again, his voice was strained.

"I will not speak of what befell me in Thanos' care. You have witnessed my nightmares, let that be enough."

Loki didn't have to say it out loud. That he had been tortured was evident in his eyes, scraped bare of all defences, stark and utterly horrible to look upon. Tony didn't know what to say. What he did know, was that he'd never forget those screams of terror. They would stay with him for the rest of his life.

"I know ... I was ... _changed_ in that time." Loki turned his back on Tony and hunched his shoulders. "Taken apart and put back together in not _quite_ the correct way. Pieces are missing. I am not blind to that, I, I feel the holes ... I cut myself daily on the sharp edges."

Tony badly wanted to go to him, wrap his arms around him and chase away the horrors. He didn't dare move, certain this would be the only time Loki opened up to him like this. The smallest interruption could send him running, cause him to throw up his defences once more.

"When he deemed me ready, Thanos sent me to Midgard. He gave me the sceptre and command of the Chitauri army, and tasked me with finding the Tesseract. My reward was to be rule of Midgard."

"So that's why you ..."

"That is why." Loki agreed. "And I have failed. The cost of which I have yet to begin to pay."

"This ... Thanos?"

"Will come for me." His shoulders hunched further and he seemed to fold in on himself, as though he wished to make himself as small a target as possible. "Having been denied the Tesseract, I imagine he will take your Earth as recompense as well."

"Why are you telling me this?" Tony frowned, choosing his words carefully. "Don't you think that knowing what's headed our way won't make me kick you to the curb so much sooner?"

"The thought did occur to me." Slowly, Loki turned to face him. Fear and vulnerability shone from his eyes and for the first time he seemed hesitant to meet Tony's gaze. His eyes made nervous little movements, flickering to Tony's face, then skittering away again. "But you made me a promise. I had rather hoped you might keep it."

_I won't let anything happen to you, I promise._

Tony took too long to answer. He knew it the moment Loki lowered his eyes completely and looked away, a defeated slump settling over his shoulders.

"Loki --"

"It's alright. It was too much to expect. Thanos is yet far from here, or any of the Nine realms. I will see how far I can run, and attempt to lead him away."

" _Loki_ \--"

"Don't get sentimental on me, Stark. This was always how it would end."

"Damnit, will you shut up for a second?" Tony grabbed Loki's wrist as he attempted to slip past him to the door. Loki froze, and Tony could feel the muscles tense beneath his hand. "I'm not gonna throw you to the wolves. I don't know how much good I'll do, but if this guy comes looking for you, I'll damn well give him a run for his money."

"He is death." Loki's voice was soft, and he refused to meet Tony's gaze.

"Yeah, well. I should have died at least twice already, and I'm still here. I can go a few rounds with death."

"Anthony ..."

"Just shut up." Tony rose and wrapped his arms around Loki's resisting body. It was like hugging a marble statue, he was so tense. "I've got you." After what seemed like a very long time, Loki's arms folded around him and he began to relax into the embrace, resting his brow against the top of Tony's head with a heavy sigh. "I've got you ..."

"You continue to confound me."

"You and me both."

Loki actually laughed at that, and his arms tightened. After a moment he spoke again, voice muffled by Tony's hair. "Why are you doing this? Did I not try to kill you?"

"Yeah. Still haven't forgiven you for that, by the way." Why _was_ he doing this? The whole of the last four days pointed towards an alarming lack of good judgement and sanity. More so than usual. But doing the right thing wasn't always about making sense. Sometimes it was just about knowing what was right. What was true. "I guess I just believe in second chances."

"You are a fool."

It was Tony's turn to laugh. "Trust me, you are far from the first person to tell me that."

\---

Tony left his emotionally exhausted god snoozing on the couch and padded into the kitchen, very pointedly refusing to think about the fact that he'd just mentally referred to Loki as _his_ god. He was not getting attached. He wasn't! Tony Stark didn't get attached to people. Especially mentally unstable aliens with murderous tendencies. _Especially_ when he already had a girlfriend who would be back in the country tomorrow and would happily castrate him if she found out what he'd been up to while she was gone.

A wry smile touched his lips as he fished the cell phone out of his pocket and sat down at the table. Even knowing all that, it was hard to feel bad about what he'd done. He didn't regret sleeping with Loki. Didn't regret promising to help him, either. It was the right thing to do. Well, perhaps not so much the former, but who was keeping score? All he had to do now was figure out a way to deal with Thanos if and when he showed his face. Oh, and convince the other Avengers that he wasn't crazy and get them on side. No sweat.

He glanced over the screen of his phone and noted the two missed calls and a voice message from Steve. _Speak of the devil._ Tony listened to the message, then hit the button to call him back. Good ol' dependable Steve. He must have found out something about the sceptre. The phone had barely rung twice before it was picked up and a hushed voice was speaking his name.

_"Tony?”_

"Hey Steve." Tony yawned and raked a hand through his hair. "Got your message, what's up?"

 _"What's up?"_ Steve's voice had that strangled quality it took on when he was trying to stay calm and was forcing words out through his teeth. _"Gee, I don't know. Maybe you should answer that?"_

"Huh? Look, Cap, not really in the mood for guessing games. Did you find out anything about the glowstick of destiny?"

_"What? No. Forget about that. I'm going to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly, okay?"_

"Okay ..." Alarm bells started going off in Tony's head, but he kept his voice steady. "Ask away."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, then;

_"Have you seen or heard anything of Loki recently?"_

Oh crap. "Define recently. You mean before or after Thor dragged him off home with his tail between his legs like a muzzled dog?"

 _"After."_ Yep, Steve was definitely clenching his jaw. _"Say, the last few hours."_

"Uh," Tony forced himself not to look back over his shoulder towards the living room, as though Steve could see him and would read the guilt in the gesture. "Can't say that I have."

_"Damnit Tony!"_

Tony winced. If Steve was swearing, things were very bad. Bad, but perhaps not unsalvageable.

"I don't --"

 _"Don't, Tony. Just don't. I know he's there. Clint saw you two ..."_ Was it possible to hear someone blush? _"He saw. The whole team knows, so spare me the lies."_

"Sonofa bitch." Tony muttered and glanced over at the kitchen window, wondering if he was being watched right now. "I'm gonna pluck that bird."

_"Tony!"_

"I'm sorry! What d'you want me to say? Yes, he's here. But it's not what it looks like. He came to me for help." Shit, this was not how he'd wanted this to come out.

_"And that help happened to include falling into bed together?"_

Tony couldn't tell if Steve was more offended by the sex itself, or the fact that it had been with Loki. Now that he thought about it, an old fashioned guy like Steve was probably all anti-premarital sex. Not to mention adultery. Not that he and Pepper were married, but still ... Tony would be like a walking, talking embodiment of sin to someone like him. And his thoughts were going way off track.

"That part's none of your damn business. He's in trouble. He's not a threat."

_"How do you know that?"_

"Because he ..." Shit. 'Because he told me so' wasn't really a great line of reasoning when the person in question was known as the god of lies. "I believe him, okay? He's scared and out of options."

_"Tony ..."_

"What's Fury going to do?"

 _"You know I can't tell you that._ "

"C'mon Steve. If you can't trust him, trust me." Tony heard a soft footstep behind him, but didn't turn around. "I haven't forgotten what he did. But last time I checked, torture wasn't an acceptable punishment in this country."

_"Torture? What're you talking about?"_

"That's what he's running from. That's what I've sworn to protect him from."

 _"Tony ..._ " He could hear the uncertainty in Steve's voice. _"I can't back you on this. I have to --"_

"I know, you've got responsibilities. Just tell me this, is Fury coming for him?"

Steve was silent for so long that Tony might have thought he was gone if not for the soft sound of his breathing still on the line. He knew he'd put the Captain in a tough position. Steve was a soldier, he was trained to follow orders and not ask questions. But he was also a good man, and he had a conscience. When those two qualities lined up and worked together, things were great. It was when they collided that Steve found himself in troubled waters, torn between loyalties.

Finally, he gave one word in reply, curt and reluctant; _"Yes."_

"Thank you."

 _"Don't make me regret this._ "

The line went dead. Tony sighed and dragged a hand over his face. Then he turned around in his chair, and met Loki's gaze from across the room.

"Y'know, it's considered rude to eavesdrop." No response, just a silent stare from a face so expressionless it might have been a mask. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

How to proceed from here? How was he supposed to say the necessary words when he could see the barriers going up in those expressive green eyes, preparing for the sting of a broken promise? Shit ... They could run, he supposed. But that would imply he'd done something wrong, and Tony was adamant that he hadn't. How far did he imagine they'd get, anyway? It would only be a matter of time before SHIELD caught up to them. Fighting wasn't an option. The Avengers were his people, his team, his friends. He couldn't, _wouldn't_ , make enemies of them. But where did that leave him?

He looked at Loki, still standing there waiting for him to speak. Steve wasn't the only one torn between loyalties.

"I can't fight them." He finally said, voice tight. "I won't give them further reason to distrust me."

Defiance flared in Loki's eyes. "I will not be chained again."

"No." Tony agreed. "You won't. That's why you have to leave. Now, before they get here."

"And leave you alone? Stark, whether you fight them or not, you will be called traitor."

"You think I don't know that?" The chair scraped loudly on the floor as he rose and pushed it back. "SHIELD'll have my ass for this, but it'll be worse if you're here. I'll figure something out, but right now you need to leave."

"I cannot --"

"You have to! Shit." Tony looked away and thrust a hand roughly through his hair. "I can't protect you if I'm in jail. Go."

"Anthony."

"Now!"

Tense silence. Tony turned back to find Loki watching him, his expression unreadable. Long moments passed between them, and in that time Loki seemed to come to some decision. He didn't speak, just inclined his head briefly and made a small gesture with his hand. Green light flared from the centre of his being and spread outwards, enveloping him. Tony felt the tingling of his skin, tiny hairs raising up in response to the close proximity of magic, then it was gone, and with it, the god of mischief. Tony stared at the empty space where Loki had been standing and tried very hard not to acknowledge the strange feeling of loss that coiled gently about his heart.

\---

Nightfall found him sitting in Loki's chair in the living room. He wasn't sure when it had become 'Loki's chair', but there it was. He had a glass of scotch in one hand and was listening to Queen's 'Princes of the Universe' on repeat. Had been for the last hour. All the blinds in the tower were closed, even though he no longer had anything to hide, because fuck peeping tom archers. He was not pining. Nope, no way. His thoughts weren't exactly user friendly, though.

Foremost in his mind was the realisation that he had no way of getting in contact with Loki. He should have given him a phone, or at least his own damn phone number. Still, maybe it was better this way. If Tony didn't know where Loki was, he could be fairly sure no one else would be able to find him either. Maybe he'd just disappear, and the whole thing would be over. No goodbyes, no last words. Just gone. He wished that made him feel better.

When the Avengers finally made their appearance, Tony was almost glad. Anything was better than sitting there alone with his thoughts. JARVIS reported two security breaches - one at a fire escape several floors down, the other on the roof. Tony took a sip of his drink and waited.

Predictably, Captain America was the first to make his appearance. He moved cautiously through the doorway, shield held defensively, eyes scanning the room for danger. Black Widow was right by his side, twin pistols raised, covering her ally.

"Relax guys, he's not here. It's just me."

"Where is he, Tony?" Steve's blue eyes were very serious as they met Tony's.

"Don't know." Tony shrugged and looked over his shoulder at the other door where Hawkeye and Thor had appeared. "Hey Thor, didn't know you were in town. Good to see ya buddy."

"And you, Tony Stark." His expression and tone of voice exposed the lie in his words. Thor was not pleased.

Tony was happy to see Bruce wasn't present. The last thing he needed was Hulk losing his shit and smashing up the penthouse. He saw Nat and Clint exchange glances, communicating on that weird unspoken level they seemed to have. Steve lowered his shield.

"So what's the deal? You all here to slap me in chains? I'm flattered, but I think the whole team's a bit much. Well, almost the whole team. Thanks for not bringing the big guy. How is Brucie?"

"This is serious, Tony." Steve had his 'Captain' face on, no room for joking around.

"I know it is." Perhaps he was being childish, but the severity of the situation made Tony all the more determined to make light of it. "Can I at least finish my drink before we go?" His words were met with an unhappy glare. "What? This stuff's expensive."

"Where is Loki?" Apparently Steve wasn't the only one with his serious pants on. Thor strode into the room and distant thunder rumbled in his voice.

"I already told you, I don't know. He took off a few hours ago. Didn't say where he was going."

Mjölnir's leather wrapped handle creaked as Thor clenched his fingers around it. Tony raised his glass to his lips in an attempt to hide any nervousness that might show on his face, and hoped Thor wouldn't start swinging that hammer around. He'd gone one on one with the thunder god before and didn't particularly want a rematch. Especially since he didn't have his suit handy. Funny, now that he thought about it, their last scuffle had been over Loki, as well. Go figure.

"I'm sure if he knew you were all gonna stop by he would have stuck around."

"What was he doing here, Stark?" Natasha fixed him with her cool, appraising stare. "There's a lot of blood on the floor in the other room, are you hurt?"

Tony shrugged. "Cut myself shaving." Why didn't he just say the blood was Loki's? Keeping secrets was bad, they always had a way of coming out at the worst of times. But he didn't like the idea of Loki's injury becoming common knowledge. His brain told him that was incredibly stupid. Tony ignored it.

Natasha looked like she wanted to call out his lie, but before she could speak Clint was stalking across the room. He came to a halt in front of Tony's chair and leaned over, getting all up in his face, examining him intently.

"Hey, personal space, you're in it." Tony grimaced and shrank back in his chair.

"He in your head? Got you doing things you know you shouldn't?" Clint's eyes narrowed speculatively. "It's okay Tony, I've been there. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You can tell me. _Anything_."

"No, he's not in my head." Not in the way Clint meant, anyway. Tony made a little shooing motion with his hands and thankfully got the concerned archer to back away. "I'm fine. He came to me for help, that's all."

"Why would he do that?" Thor demanded in a way that made Tony's new protective instincts bristle.

"Don't know, maybe there was nowhere else he could go?"

"What are you implying?" Thunder rumbled, and Tony began to mentally calculate the chances of getting to his suit before Thor bashed his head in with a big-ass hammer.

"Guys. Guys! Cut it out." Ever one to throw himself on a live grenade, Steve put himself between them, eyes flicking from one to the other and back again, finally settling on Tony. "Tony, we have to take you in."

"Figured." Doing his best to appear unconcerned and for the most part, succeeding, Tony finished off the last of his drink and set the glass down. His fingers brushed surreptitiously over his watch, the one he'd integrated with the homing technology to summon his suit to a remote location. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but it never hurt to be prepared. "Shall we?"

They rode the elevator down to the ground floor, where a sleek black van was waiting for them. Natasha climbed in behind the wheel and Clint rode shotgun, while the rest of the group piled into the back. Tony cast a long, searching look at the sky before the door slammed shut, and hoped Loki was somewhere far away.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. This one came kicking and screaming, and required a bit of manhandling. Thanks again for the all the support so far - hearing from you guys truly makes my day and keeps me going! xoxo


	10. ten

Complying with Stark’s wishes, Loki left the tower, but he didn’t go far. He teleported to the rooftop of a neighbouring building, careful to find a vantage point from which he would remain unseen, and from there, waited to see what would happen. Hours passed, but Loki was nothing if not patient. He’d spent months on end locked in his prison cell on Asgard with nothing but failure and his mother’s occasional visits to occupy his mind. A few hours on a rooftop with the sky above him and the wind in his hair was nothing. Invigorating, even. Healing in a way that had nothing to do with the physical body. Stark had been a pleasant distraction and for the most part had enabled Loki to forget that while he was free of his bonds, refuge in the tower was just another kind of prison.

_Freedom is life’s great lie._

Loki snorted and allowed himself a self deprecating smirk. Truer words, he doubted he’d ever spoken. For now, though, with sunlight on his face and no walls to close him in, Loki let himself believe the lie and imagine himself free.

He did wonder, from time to time, why he lingered there. True freedom, or something as close to it as he was ever going to find, was there within his reach. All he had to do was grasp it and be gone from this place. Stark would keep SHIELD and the Avengers busy for a while, and in that time Loki could disappear without a trace. He’d wrap himself in cloaking magics until not even the all-seeing Heimdall would be able to pinpoint his location, and captivity would never darken his skies again.

Hours passed, and Loki stayed. He owed Stark a debt, if nothing else. But there was more to it than that. Guilt, regret. And the possessive determination not to let anyone else take what was _his_. Like it or not, he had bound himself to Stark in a way that he could neither understand, nor talk himself out of. A mortal man who had pledged to stand against a being that made a god tremble. An enigma who had shown kindness to an enemy and asked nothing in return. They were things Loki could not forget or cast aside, however much he might wish to. Stark – _Anthony_ , had promised to protect him. The least Loki could do was attempt the same in return.

Night fell, and with it came the Avengers. Loki watched, unseen in the shadows as the van pulled up to the curb outside Stark tower, and one by one they entered the building. Four of them – he was pleased, for Stark’s sake, that the hulking green beast was not among them. Loki still hadn’t gotten over the humiliation of being thrown around like a ragdoll.

Pushing that unpleasant memory to the back of his mind, he crept a little closer to the edge of his rooftop and wondered how long he should wait before he assumed the worst. Stark wouldn’t want him to interfere – in fact, he’d told him straight out to let him handle things himself, but really, when had Loki ever followed orders?

Ten more minutes, he decided. Then he’d go in, and may whatever pathetic gods they believed in protect them if they’d harmed Stark. Luckily for them, it didn’t come to violence. Loki saw them march Stark out of the tower and stash him away in the back of the van. He didn’t look to be hurt or even particularly ruffled, but then, Stark was almost as good at putting on a game face as Loki himself. He caught the moment the facade wavered - when Stark cast a brief, searching gaze at the sky, and knew that he was thinking of him.

“I’m here ...” He murmured to himself as the van door slammed shut and the engine purred to life. It took but a moment’s concentration to change his form to that of a starling and take flight. The innocuous little brown bird followed the van swiftly, careful to remain at an altitude that he would not be easily spotted. Doubtful at best, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

He followed the van halfway across the city, noting the escort of black cars that peeled away from various points around the tower and kept pace throughout the city streets. SHIELD wasn’t taking any chances. That worried Loki a little, and several times during the flight he had to restrain the urge to charge on in, grab Stark and make off with him. Patience. Trust. That was what he needed right now. The ‘act first, ask questions later’ approach was Thor’s gig, and Loki most definitely was not his brother.

Eventually, the van pulled into an underground parking lot alongside a modern looking building that proudly proclaimed itself to be SHIELD Central. Loki alighted on a nearby tree branch and settled his feathers while studying the building critically. Perhaps sixty stories high, with several underground levels, if memory served him well and agent Barton’s information from two years ago was accurate.

Not that that would be a problem. Intimacy with Stark had provided more than just the physical benefits. He’d been close enough to get a good feel for the man’s energy signature and should be able to teleport himself to his location with little hindrance. That is, if Stark wasn’t allowed to go free within an acceptable time frame. Loki was prepared to be patient, but he wouldn’t wait forever. Stark belonged to him, and he wasn’t fond of sharing.

Hidden in the branches of the tree, the starling ruffled his feathers and settled in to watch and wait.

+++

So far, so good. Loki hadn’t appeared like some knight in shining armour to whisk his ass away to safety, so Tony assumed he was going to behave himself and stay away. Good. That was one less thing to worry about. Now he could concentrate on more immediate problems, like how he was going to explain himself to Fury without ending up locked away with no parole.

Said judge, jury and executioner was sitting opposite him, gloved hands folded on the table top, giving him the evil eyeball and not saying a word. Tony stared back at him, determined not to be the one to crack first, but he’d never been good with silence and it wasn’t long before he couldn’t take any more.

“Hi Nick.” He flashed a brief smile, there and gone in a heartbeat.

“Stark.”

“Oh you can talk, good. I was starting to worry you’d gone mute. You know how much I love our chats.”

Fury glared at him. “I hear you’ve been entertaining.”

“Is that what this is about?” Tony feigned surprise. “You upset ‘cause you didn’t get an invite? I was going to throw a slumber party for the whole gang next weekend. And you know my Halloween bash is coming up.”

“Stark –“

“What’re you dressing up as this year? Is it a pirate? I know, it’s cliché, but it’d be a crime not to do it at least once.”

“Stark! Cut the bullshit. If you can’t explain this latest stunt to my satisfaction you’ll be spending Halloween in lockup.”

Tony sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Okay. But someone’s going to have to call Pepper and tell her where I am. And pick her up from the airport tomorrow. She’ll be pissed if she thinks I forgot again.”

“I think you have more important things to worry about right now.” Fury’s hands flexed and the leather gloves creaked.

“You haven’t had a girlfriend in a while, have you. Trust me, what she thinks is the _most_ important thing. Ever.”

“Uh huh.” Tony could almost see the angry thundercloud rumbling over Fury’s head. “And what is Miss Potts going to think about how you’ve been spending your time lately?”

“Ouch. Are we really going there? That's harsh.” Tony winced. “Okay, I give. Keep that little detail to yourself and I’ll do as you say like a good little soldier.”

That single dark eye glared at him. “Loki. Explain.”

“Right. Okay.” Tony drummed the fingertips of both hands on the table, collecting his thoughts. He'd decided on the way over how much he was going to tell, but it didn't hurt to take a moment to be sure of what he was going to say. He didn't want to accidentally blurt out any of Loki's secrets. Keeping secrets was not one of his best things. One only had to find the words 'I am Iron Man' firmly embedded in recent history to know the truth of that little flaw. He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. Okay. Enough stalling.

"He came to the tower a few days ago. He was injured and needed medical help."

"Of all people, why would he go to you for help?"

"Ignoring the implied insult there." Tony pulled a face, then shrugged. "I dunno, I guess I'm just an approachable guy. So yeah, wounded. Apparently he was out with Thor and things got a bit out of hand. You know how those brotherly bonding weekends go. Do you have a brother?"

"Stark." His name turned into a growl.

"Yeah, me either. Probably a good thing. Can you imagine what it'd be like having two of me to keep track of?" He chuckled, ignoring Fury's less than impressed glare. "Anyway, I did what I could for him. Mostly he just needed somewhere to sleep it off."

Tony left out the part where Loki had slept for three days straight, dead to the world and wrapped in healing spells. Part of the reason why SHIELD considered the Asgardian to be so dangerous was that he seemed to be untouchable. It had taken a beating from Hulk to finally subdue him last time he'd been in town, and even after that he'd been up and walking again in no time at all. Tony didn't want it to become a known fact that Loki could, in fact, be physically injured to the point that he was in real trouble.

"After that we talked. He convinced me to let him stay for a few days while he figured out what to do next."

"And just like that, you agreed to let an inter-planetal criminal bunk over with you." Fury was, understandably, sceptical.

"Inter-planetal, huh, I like it. You come up with that? I know I know, get on with it Stark. Yeah, I agreed to let him stay. He swore he had nothing to do with London - which, by the way, I'm hurt you didn't call me in for - and he was on his best behaviour, so I figured, why not?"

"Why not." Fury repeated flatly, then he sighed. "Stark, it continues to amaze me how someone as brilliant as you can be so goddamn stupid. We're talking about the same Loki, right? The guy who stole the Tesseract, killed dozens of people and tried to take over the world? And you didn't have _any_ reservations about letting him stay with you? You didn't think perhaps that was something you should report?"

Tony shrugged and had the grace to look a little guilty. "Well when you put it like that it sounds bad. But he hadn't done anything wrong this time around. Calling it in seemed like kinda a dick move."

"Are you sure your dick wasn't all you had on your mind?"

"Oh come on! Why is everyone making such a big deal about that?" More pissed off than he probably had the right to be, Tony shoved his chair back and stood up, unable to sit still any longer.

"Does the phrase 'sleeping with the enemy' mean anything to you?"

"I'm not sleeping with the enemy." Tony scowled and paced to the end of the long table. "We fucked a couple of times, that's it. Nothing to get your panties in a twist about." With a bit of distance between them, Tony exhaled sharply and leaned against the edge of the table, folding his arms. "Hell, you should be thanking me. He trusts me now. Gave me a heads up about a seriously bad dude headed our way."

"Explain."

"Guy named Thanos. He's the one that sent Loki here in the first place. He wants the Tesseract and will do anything to get it."

"Like send a power hungry lunatic to take over the Earth?"

"Like torture a man until he's walking the edge of madness, then send him to do his bidding, yeah." His throat felt tight and it was a struggle to keep his voice even. He was wasting his breath, he could feel it. Fury didn't need to say it, Tony could tell just from the look on his face that he didn't believe him.

"I see." The toneless words filled the silence like a judgement. Fury looked at him with that same expression of disappointment his father had worn so many years ago, and touched the communicator in his ear. "We're done here."

"What happened to giving people a second chance?" Tony asked bitterly, straightening up as Fury rose from his seat. "What about Romanov and Banner? What about me? Why didn't we end up on the chopping block? Or is it only people you think you can make use of that you save?"

Fury didn't answer. He just looked at the door as a couple of agents entered the room, one of them carrying a pair of ornate shackles, the same kind Loki had worn before Thor had taken him back to Asgard.

"The hell is this?" There was no point resisting. Tony held his hands out passively and allowed the agent to cuff him, but his eyes flung daggers in Fury's direction.

"Magic suppression cuffs."

Tony snorted. "I'm flattered you think so highly of my work, but what I do isn't magic. Just science."

"Insurance, Stark. In case your new friend decides to try a daring rescue."

_Shit_. Would Loki come here? Tony prayed he do as he'd been told and stay away.

"What makes you think he gives a damn about me? He's probably halfway across the universe by now."

"Just a hunch. I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of Loki." Fury nodded to the agents. "Get him out of here."

\---

The cell Tony was taken to was fairly comfortable, he supposed, as far as prison cells went. There was a low bed, complete with pillow and blanket, a chair and small table, a toilet and hand basin. No window though, and the light was bright and sterile.

After a long, sleepless night, Tony sat on the bed, back against the wall, feet and the ends of his legs hanging over the edge. The short chain that linked his wrists together had been removed, but the cuffs themselves remained, heavy and uncomfortable. He toyed with the one on his left wrist, running a fingertip over the strange markings engraved into the unfamiliar metallic material. He wondered how they worked, and if it would be possible to replicate them here on Earth. Might be useful, considering all the super powered types coming out of the woodwork these days. He'd have to find out what they were made of, then find a supplier ...

"Agh ..." He sighed irritably and scrubbed a hand over his face. What was he doing thinking about crap like that? Well, that was a no brainer. Better to think about work than worry about Loki. And Tony _was_ worried. Mostly because he was sure that possessive bastard wouldn't just let him go. It might take some time, but eventually Loki would come for him. Tony knew it, and Fury seemed to be counting on it. The director's lack of concern on that matter was something else to stew over. He seemed confident the god wouldn't pose any kind of threat. Why? Because Thor was here? That couldn't be all of it. Tony didn't know, and that ignorance was going to drive him crazy. So he prodded at the cuffs, and thought about work, and tried very hard to ignore the worried churning in his gut.

\---

It was a few hours after breakfast when Thor arrived to pay him a visit. Tony was glad to see him. Having failed to talk Fury around, Thor was his next best chance to gain some protection for Loki. In theory, anyway. As the Asgardian sat down on the chair opposite the bed, Tony remembered Loki's tale of being thrown from the Bifrost, and the state he'd been in when he found him in the tower, and some of his optimism faded.

"Hey big guy." Tony smiled anyway, hiding his inner unease behind a cheerful greeting.

"Tony." In comparison, Thor seemed subdued, not at all like his usual boisterous self. He didn't have Mjölnir with him, for which Tony was thankful and took as a good sign. If Thor wasn't here to pick a fight, things might go more smoothly than he dared to hope.

"They say you have befriended Loki."

Straight to the point. Tony liked that in a person.

"That's right." He wondered where this was going. Thor didn't seem angry, or upset. Just ... quiet.

"How did that come about? Did he not try to kill you last you met?"

"Yeah, well." Tony suppressed a laugh and raised his eyebrows at Thor. "When you and I first met, you tried to fry me with lightning. I try not to hold grudges over little things like that."

A jovial laugh. "You are a better man than most, Tony Stark."

Tony grinned. "I tell that to everyone I meet. You think they listen?" He sighed theatrically. "It's a curse."

Thor chuckled some more, but his smile quickly faded, his expression turning serious once more. "I would ask you about my brother." He hesitated, "Is he well?"

And just like that, Tony snapped. It was stupid and illogical and irrational, and he could do nothing to stop it. All he could see in his mind's eye was Loki bleeding out all over his carpet, and now here was Thor, who had left Loki for dead on some distant world, asking about his welfare? How dare he?

Tony kept a calm face, drawing up his legs and resting his forearms on his knees. His fingers twitched with the need to throttle the oblivious god sitting opposite him.

"Tony?" Thor frowned, visibly unsettled by the lack of response to his question. "Are _you_ well?"

"Oh I'm great." This time, the smile that stretched his lips was little more than a baring of teeth. "And Loki's pretty damn spritely for someone who got run through with a sword."

Thor breathed a great sigh of relief. "Thank the Norns."

"Uh uh. No. You don't get to be relieved!"

Thor stared at him like he'd gone mad. "What? I do not understand."

"Ugh, of course you don't." Tony looked away, clenched his hands into fists and silently counted to ten. When he felt able to speak without shouting, he turned back to the bewildered Thor. Even then, his voice was strained. "You left him there to die! He got hurt saving your sorry ass, and you just _left him there!_ " So much for not shouting.

Thor looked like he'd been slapped in the face. Stricken, he said softly, "I thought him dead."

As though that explained everything.

"Did you even stop to make sure? Didn't they teach you how to check a fucking pulse on Asgard!?"

"There was no time!" Now Thor was getting angry. "His was not the only life on the line. Countless others were at stake!"

"And that makes it okay? He's your _brother_ Thor! He needed you!"

"Do you think I am not aware of that?" Thor surged to his feet, knocking the chair away and towering over Tony. "I know I failed him. In more ways than one. But we all have to make choices. I did, and so did he. Now we all must live with the outcome of those choices."

"Oh, like you chose to throw him off that damn bridge?!" Tony glared up at him, his throat growing tight with emotion. The memory of Loki's nightmare fuelled screams echoed in his head.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't try to deny it! He told me everything. How you two fought on the Bifrost. How you threw him into the abyss, into pain and madness!"

As swiftly as Thor's rage had come upon him, it deflated. He gazed into Tony's tear bright eyes and an unknowable pain flitted across his face.

"He told you that?"

"Yes he told me that." Tony watched as Thor righted the chair and sat back down. "Why, what difference does it make?"

"He let go."

"What?"

"On the Bifrost. Aye, we fought. He sought to destroy an entire race of people, I had to stop him." Thor's blue eyes were clear and pleading. "We fought, and he fell, but I caught him. I could have pulled him back up, but he ... let go. He chose to fall."

Silence closed in around them. Tony felt a hollow chill in his chest, just below the arc reactor. Was Thor telling the truth? Had Loki lied to him? Given what he knew of both Asgardians, which option was more likely to be true? Tony knew the answer to that. His heart denied it. His head told him not to be stupid.

"He said ... He told me ..."

"Loki is a very talented liar." Thor said gently, leaning forward to brace his hand against Tony's shin. "Perhaps he even believes his own lies. I know not what he plans, but he is using you, Tony."

"No." Tony shook his head. "I can't accept that, he --" _He seemed so sincere._ All that pain and fear. You couldn't fake that, could you? _Liesmith_. "He said he was tortured. That someone called Thanos forced him into attacking Earth."

"I have never heard of this Thanos." Thor sighed and squeezed Tony's leg before withdrawing his hand. "Loki does what Loki wants. He always has. I cannot believe his actions here were any different." He rose from the chair again, carefully pushing it back to its place by the table. "I am truly sorry you were caught up in his schemes. I can see you have come to care for him."

Tony looked up as Thor strode to the door and knocked twice.

"Wait. What will you do? If he comes here."

A brief hesitation as the door opened. Thor almost looked like he was going to leave without answering, then he glanced back, and whatever he saw in Tony's eyes prompted him to speak.

"Director Fury says he has a weapon. If that fails, I will subdue him myself. If he can be captured alive, we will return to Asgard. If not, well ..." No need to say out loud what would happen if Loki couldn't be apprehended. They both knew what the alternative was. Thor waited, but Tony had nothing left to say. A moment of silence passed between them. A silence filled with regrets, old and new, on both sides.

Outside the cell, someone cleared his throat impatiently. The sound broke the moment. Thor nodded once to Tony in farewell, then he was gone. The door closed firmly behind him, and Tony could hear the locks sliding into place. In the new silence, he closed his eyes and his arc reactor felt heavy in his chest as the weight of emotion descended upon him.

He'd suspected from the beginning that Loki might be playing him. Of course he'd suspected. Given who Loki was, he'd have been a fool not to. But somewhere along the course of four short days, that suspicion had fallen by the wayside. How could he have been so stupid? So gullible?

_Don't go._

_What do you want from me, Tony Stark?_

_When I am gone, you will yearn for my return._

_I won't let anything happen to you, I promise._

_You stayed here all night. With me._

_What are you doing to me?_

_Anthony ..._

The words echoed in his mind, overlapping with memories of haunted green eyes and hungry kisses.

Lies. All lies.

Tony wanted to trust that Loki hadn't played him, but Thor's words had planted a seed of doubt in his mind and it didn't take much for that seed to take root. Thor was his team mate and his friend. Loki was a known liar and the man who had tried to kill him. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.

"Fuck."

Tony grabbed his pillow and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the opposite wall with an unsatisfying thud and slid to the floor. Played like a fiddle. He couldn't have made it easier for Loki if he'd tried. Tony flopped down onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe Loki had cast some kind of sex spell on him. He groaned and covered his eyes with the back of his arm. No. Don't go making excuses. The sex had been great, but it wasn't what had made him change the way he thought about Loki. There was something else between them. Something real. Perhaps Loki had been playing him from the start, but Tony was sure that whatever had happened to change things, the trickster felt it too.

Or maybe he was just deluding himself.

\---

The days passed slowly, broken only by meals delivered by blank faced agents, and the occasional visit from friends. Steve stopped by a couple of times - he seemed to have taken it upon himself to make sure Tony was being treated well. He'd also kitted himself out as Tony's personal conscience. If Loki was the devil on one shoulder whispering bad things into his ear, Steve was the angel on the other, assuring him of what was good and right, gently chastising him for the things he'd done wrong. And while it was nice to have evidence that someone actually cared about him, it was an act that was quickly driving Tony crazy. He'd snapped and told Steve as much a few days ago. After that the Captain's visits had been less frequent.

There had been a moment of panic the day Pepper turned up. The horrified look on her face as she entered the cell had made Tony sure Fury had spilled everything to her, but she'd just embraced him tight enough to almost squeeze the life out of him, and promised to do everything in her power to free him. Considering how persuasive Pepper could be, Tony was half inclined to believe she might actually do it. Part of him was grateful. Another part told him not to be a jackass. After how he'd betrayed Pepper, he should _not_ be relying on her to bail him out of this mess.

Most of the time, when he wasn't being ridden into the ground by guilt, Tony was bored. He'd never been good at sitting idle, and his cell provided very little in the way of mental stimulation. Over a week had passed without any sign of Loki, and Tony wondered just how long Fury was planning on keeping him here. Forever? That seemed a little extreme, but knowing Fury, it probably wasn't out of the question. That guy was like a mad dog - once he got his teeth into something, it was damn near impossible to make him let go.

Faced with the potential for lifetime imprisonment and probable eventual insanity, Tony wasn't sure what he hoped the outcome of this situation would be. Going in, he'd been adamant with himself that he'd hold out, take the fall and figure out a way to help Loki. Now, after his conversation with Thor, he wasn't so certain. He was plagued with doubt, and tormented himself with the very real possibility that he was giving up his life for a lying bastard. He didn't know what to do. Locked in a cell, there wasn't much he _could_ do, except wait. Wait, and fret over the knowledge that Fury had a weapon capable of subduing a god.

+++

For twelve days Loki waited. He positioned clones of himself to watch every exit point. He rarely slept, and ate only what insects were easily caught in his starling form. In all that time, he didn't see so much as a glimpse of Stark. He saw the other Avengers come and go frequently. Searching for him, no doubt. He wondered what they would do if they knew he'd been so close all this time. During the long hours of waiting, Loki amused himself by imagining strolling up to the front doors in full ceremonial armour, demanding Stark be handed over to him, laughing at the shock and outrage on his foes' faces. He knew Stark was still in there. Despite being unable to see him, somewhere deep inside that structure of glass and steel, Loki could sense him.

On the thirteenth day, Loki reached his limit. He wasn't quite sure what he'd been waiting for - he knew SHIELD wasn't going to let Stark walk just like that. But it had seemed important to wait, to show Stark that he'd listened to his request. He'd stayed away and he'd waited, but now he could wait no more. It was time to take back what was his.

Loki closed his eyes and thought of Stark. His senses extended out, beyond his body, beyond his normal field of perception. For long moments he groped blindly in the dark, able to feel Stark's closeness but not quite able to pinpoint his location. Loki made himself relax and let his senses flow like a river's current. This kind of work was delicate. If he forced it, he'd never find what he was looking for. Gently, gently, his mind and magic melded into one essence and flowed over the building. He was close, so close ... There!

Infused with triumph, Loki wasted no more time. He projected his physical self through space and matter, teleporting to Stark's location with practiced ease. On the way he dropped the bird shape he'd been wearing and assumed his humanoid form.

When he opened his eyes, Loki found himself standing in a cell, no larger than the one he'd called home back on Asgard. He turned, and there, lying stretched out on a narrow cot was his startled mortal.

"Loki?! The hell are you doing here?" Stark spluttered as he sat up, large brown eyes wide with shock.

"I thought that obvious."

"I told you to stay away!"

"I did stay away." Loki smirked, well pleased with himself. "It's no fault of mine that you failed to specify a time frame."

For a moment Stark sat there stunned. Then he appeared to be fighting a smile, but the expression quickly faded back into alarm. He rose from the bed and shoved Loki, as though that would make him move.

"You're an idiot, you have to go, now."

Loki stood his ground and reached out to wrap his fingers around Stark's arm. "That was the plan. And you're coming with me."

It was but a moment's work to gather his power and cast the teleportation spell. It was several confused moments before he realised they'd gone exactly nowhere. Loki blinked and threw a questioning glance at Stark. Looking grim, Stark held up his free hand, displaying the heavy shackle clasped around his wrist.

Suppression cuffs. Loki swore viciously. This was Thor's doing. How _dare_ he prevent Loki from taking what was his?! Stark was talking, but Loki barely heard him, he was so angry. All his life, Thor had been in the spotlight, taking in the glory of his position, their father's love, the respect and admiration of their friends. Now Loki had found something that was _his_ , something he desperately wanted to keep close to him, and here was Thor, taking that away from him as well. Well, this time, Loki wouldn't stand for it. He'd fight, and --

"Loki!"

"What?!" He practically snarled at Stark, ripped from his thoughts by the man's hands gripping the front of his shirt.

"Get out of here! This room's under surveillance." Stark shoved him again. "SHIELD have a weapon, if they catch you here --"

Though he was touched by the concern for his wellbeing, Loki shook off Stark's grip. What could the humans possibly do to him? He'd carve a path through them if he had to. He'd --

The door to the cell swung open and a pair of men in black combat fatigues appeared. Loki bared his teeth at them, and an unobtrusive dagger materialised in his hand, held close to his leg. One of the men aimed a standard semi automatic pistol at him, the kind Loki had seen countless times during his brief stay on Midgard. It was the other that made him narrow his eyes and hesitate. The second man held what looked like a miniaturised version of the gun that hapless agent had shot him with aboard the helicarrier. It emitted a faint blue glow, and there was a _presence_ about it that Loki could sense, the kind of output he was used to associating with magical objects.

"Go, now!"

Loki heard Stark's warning. He shifted his weight, and the agent fired.

The shot hit him full in the chest. He felt the pressure of impact, but no pain, no alerts from his body that he was injured. He blinked and took a step forward. The cell seemed to waver around him and his limbs were slow to react to his brain's commands. He had plenty of time to watch the agent slowly raise the weapon again, to see his finger pull the trigger. Blue light pulsed from the gun's barrel and glided towards him at a leisurely pace. Loki thought he heard Stark calling his name, but it was difficult to hear, like he was speaking under water.

The second shot hit him and Loki gasped, feeling a strange numbness spreading simultaneously from his heart and head.

"Stand down."

Unlike Stark's voice, the agent's reached him loud and clear. Loki immediately relaxed, letting the dagger slip from his hand. It hit the floor with a clatter and skidded to the edge of the bed.

"Threat is neutralised Sir."

The agent spoke into the communicator at his ear while Loki struggled with himself. He could feel Stark beside him, hear him shouting, but was unable to respond. It was like there was another presence in his mind, blocking his will. That was enough cause for concern on its own, but more frightening was the fact that this feeling of helplessness was not unfamiliar. Loki shivered as a wave of dread washed over him. In his mind's eye, he saw Thanos, his predatory grin lit up by the blue glow of the stone in his hand. Desperation clawed at him. He couldn't do this again. To lose his free will, to be helpless before his enemy, he couldn't do it. He couldn't bear it.

Like a drowning man, Loki gasped for breath and shifted his foot. He barely moved it two inches, but it was enough to slide his dagger that little bit further under the bed. The increased tension on his arm where Stark was holding him told him that he'd noticed. Loki's fingers twitched and brushed lightly against Stark's hip. Immediately a warm hand closed around his own, squeezing firmly. Loki wished he could turn to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on the agent who had shot him, watching him as though he held all the secrets of the universe.

In time, another pair of humans entered the cell. A man and a woman, dressed in white lab coats. The woman carried a syringe, and although he didn't know what was in it, Loki was damn sure he didn't want it injected into his body.

"What is that?" Stark's voice came to him from that under water place, garbled and wrapped in weeds. "Hey! What're you giving him?"

"Stand back, Mr Stark." The agent with the pistol aimed his weapon at Stark.

Loki felt the man's presence reluctantly slipping away, leaving his side cold and empty.

_No, don't leave me!_

He turned his head, eyes searching, finding, locking onto Stark's face.

"Anthony ..." A whisper, a plea, then another pulse from the gun struck him, and Loki felt all resistance seeping out of his body.

The woman uncapped the syringe and cautiously moved closer to him. Loki could sense her nervousness, but was unmoved by it. He just stood there passively as she brushed his hair aside and injected the drug into the side of his neck. Cold spread through him, then numbness. Loki swayed on his feet and his vision began to go dark around the edges. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his eyes on the agent with the gun.

"Sleep." The man told him.

Loki trembled, and the great maw of unconsciousness rose up to devour him.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! I'm really sorry for the long wait on this chapter - my Muse did NOT want to write it. I haven't abandoned this story though, and hopfully the rest will come easier ^_^'


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *zombie noises* This chapter comes to you from beyond the grave!

Tony moved quickly, but he wasn't fast enough to catch Loki and completely break his fall. The best he could do was keep him from hitting his head on the hard edge of the bed as he slumped unconscious, dragging Tony down onto the floor with him. There, he cradled Loki's head and shoulders protectively on his lap and glared up at the agents around them.

"What'd you do to him?"

"It's just a sedative, Mr Stark."

"Not that!" Tony snapped, clinging to Loki and baring his teeth in a silent snarl as the man in the lab coat tried to move closer. "Stay back! The hell was that gun? What'd you shoot him with?"

The agent in question fixed him with a cool stare. "That information is classified."

"Classified -- Don't give me that shit! You turned him into a zombie! What'd you do, fry his brain? Is this permanent?!"

"I'm not authorised to answer those questions. You'll have to ask the Director. Now move aside Mr Stark."

"Like hell I'm moving aside!"

Desperation washed over him. Without his suit, there was little he could do against four opponents. And that wasn't counting the shitstorm of other agents that would pour into the cell the moment he stepped out of line. Tony clung to Loki, dismayed by the limp, unresponsive state he'd been forced into. What if he never woke up? What if he _did_ wake up, but had to spend the rest of his life as a vegetable? What would happen to him then? Did Asgardians keep their injured on life support, or would they just put him down like an animal?

"I said stay back!" Tony was working himself into a state. Not knowing what was going to happen was terrifying, but one thing he _did_ know was that there was no way he was letting these assholes get their hands on Loki.

"We need to secure him." The woman murmured to the agents. "I gave him enough juice to tranquilise an elephant, but there's no telling how long it'll last."

"Mr Stark, you need to stand down. Now." The agent with the pistol levelled his weapon at Tony.

"What're you gonna do? Shoot me?" Tony gave a humourless laugh. "You won't shoot me. I'm too valuable to Fury."

" _Step away_ Mr Stark."

"Make me."

From outside the cell came the sound of footsteps and rolling wheels. Tony caught a glimpse through the door of several more agents and a gurney, complete with restraining straps.

"Mr Stark, this is the last time I'm going to ask. Step aside."

"Fuck you." Holding Loki tightly, Tony watched the agents exchange a glance. He knew he was only delaying the inevitable. They might not shoot him, but there were plenty of other ways they could force him to do as they wished. His fingers dug into the unconscious god's arm. He'd never known fear like this before. Oh, he'd been afraid plenty of times, but never for someone else. Not to this extent. Tony didn't care what happened to himself at this point, but he was terrified of what might be waiting for Loki.

The agent with the brain-frying ray gun touched something on the side of the weapon and it gave off a soft whirring sound, the glowing blue light brightening in response.

"You have ten seconds to let go of the prisoner and step away. Failure to comply will result in finding out firsthand what this gun can do."

Tony ground his teeth together, making a muscle in his jaw flicker. End of the line. He couldn't do anything for Loki if his brains got roasted. He let his head drop down, resting his brow briefly against Loki's cool skin. "I'll make this right. I promise." Softly spoken, little more than lips shaping the words.

_Don't make promises you can't keep._

_I keep my promises._

Gently, he laid Loki down on the floor, and got to his feet. The gun pointed at him didn't waver, so Tony took half a step backwards and sat down on the edge of his bed.

Taking that as his cue, the male scientist shuffled forward, casting a wary glance at Tony before crouching down and checking Loki's vitals. He seemed satisfied, because he rose, nodded to the agents, and moved out of the way. The guy with the pistol holstered his weapon while his partner kept watch on Tony. He pulled a large, ornate looking key out of his pocket and grunted at Tony, gesturing for him to hold his hands out.

"The hell is this?" Confused, Tony obeyed, letting the agent unlock the shackles from around his wrists.

"The target is in custody. Don't need bait anymore." The agent smirked at Tony. "You've been demoted."

Tony managed to keep his tongue in check, but it was a struggle. He watched, body coiled as tightly as a spring as the agent secured the suppression cuffs around Loki's wrists. The gurney was wheeled into the room, and the two accompanying agents grunted as they lifted Loki's unresponsive weight from the floor and strapped him down.

For Tony, unable to do anything more than sit there with a gun trained on him as they wheeled Loki out the door, it was probably the hardest thing he'd ever done. Give him a bang up fight any day. Give him an alien invasion, palladium poisoning, a desert cave full of terrorists - they were all things that he could actively fight against and attempt to fix. Sitting there helpless, unable to do a damn thing while the man he'd sworn to protect was taken away ... It was crushing. Damaging in a way he hadn't known was possible.

"Loki --" Before he realised what he was doing Tony was on his feet with the barrel of that weird gun pressed against his chest, just to the left of the arc reactor. His eyes met those of the agent facing him, and his voice came out choked. "What's going to happen to him?"

The agent stared him down, unmoved by Tony's concern. "I'm not authorised to reveal that information. Save your questions for the Director."

"The Director." Tony scowled. "Tell Fury I want to see him. Now."

"Do I look like your secretary?" The agent smoothly walked backwards to the door. Everyone else had already cleared the room. "Tell him yourself."

Gun or no gun, if the door hadn't closed at that moment, Tony would have flown at the smug asshole, lack of suit be damned. He was scrappy, he was sure he'd at least get a few good hits in before the rest of them swarmed him.

As it was, he was left alone and reeling in the stillness, heart racing too fast in his chest. He turned a slow circle, eyes darting around the cell as though the answer to his problem might be hidden somewhere in the walls. When nothing popped out at him, he sank onto the bed with a tremulous sigh and buried his face in his hands. He'd failed. And to make matters worse, he had no way of knowing what the cost of that failure would be.

SHIELD, he'd learned throughout their encounters over the last few years, didn't tend to let themselves be impeded by little details like legalities and basic human rights. In matters like this where governments had no precedents to go on and were generally kept in the dark anyway, SHIELD had free reign to do pretty much whatever they liked. The question was, now that they had Loki in custody, what would they do?

Last time, Fury hadn't made a fuss about letting Thor take Loki back to Asgard for punishment. At least, not to Tony's knowledge. Thor had told him he meant to do the same this time around, but Tony couldn't shake the niggling feeling that it wouldn't go down that way. Fury had Loki brain fried, sedated, cuffed, and wrapped up with a neat little bow. Tony couldn't see him giving that up too easily. Which he supposed in a way, was a good thing. He'd have a much easier time busting Loki out of a SHIELD facility than a dungeon on Asgard. The scary part was what would happen to Loki in the meantime. Tony distinctly remembered Fury hinting at torture the last time he'd had the Asgardian locked in a cage. Considering what had happened since then, he very much doubted time would have changed the Director's inclinations.

_Anthony ..._

He had to fix this. Whatever that weapon had done to Loki, it had scared the shit out of him. Not particularly stable at the best of times, who knew what hidden damage had already been caused in that brilliant, fragmented mind. Tony lifted his head and turned his eyes to the ceiling, trying to guess where the security camera was hidden.

"Fury!"

The thick walls seemed to soak up his voice. He rose from the bed and began to pace, shouting all the while.

"Hey! Fury! Get your ass in here! We need to talk!"

Loki had come for him, even though Tony had warned him to stay away. Thor had been so sure it was all a ploy, some elaborate scheme to use him. But Loki had come all the same. That had to mean something. Loki wouldn't risk himself if this was all just some plot, would he? No. Tony couldn't believe that, and he wouldn't leave him to the wolves.

"Nick you fucking bastard! Answer me!"

Tony shouted until his voice turned raw and painful in his throat, but Fury didn't make an appearance. The day wore on slowly, and between bouts of shouting and raging, Tony's desperation only grew. It was pretty clear to him that he was being deliberately ignored, but why? He suspected Fury was punishing him, but it could also be that he was too busy with other things. Like torturing Loki.

"Agh!" Tony growled and raked his hands through dishevelled hair. This helpless waiting was going to drive him crazy. He didn't even get the chance to interrogate the guy who usually brought his meals - he too had made himself scarce.

The end of the day found Tony hungry, scared and frustrated, sitting on the floor with his back rested against the edge of the bed. He sat with his right arm rested on his drawn up knees, chin propped on his forearm, his other wrist angled so that he could watch the slender hand on his watch tick off the seconds. He idly wondered what the walls of this place where made out of, and if his suit would be able to smash its way through if he was to summon it.

"Stupid idea ..." He muttered hoarsely. What would he do if he had the suit, anyway? Fight his own people? Avoiding that had been the point of letting them take him in the first place.

The second hand counted down the hour, and right on eleven o'clock, as they always did, the lights in the cell went out. Tony sighed in the darkness and straightened up, slowly easing his right hand down onto the floor beside him. His fingers slid along the floor, blindly searching until they came upon the cool, sleek shape of Loki's dagger. He wrapped his hand around the hilt, marvelling at the way it fit into his palm, almost as if it had been made for him. Very carefully - for Tony had no doubts that Loki kept his weapons as sharp as his mind - he slid the dagger up the inside of his sleeve.

Tony might not be willing to fight SHIELD, but that didn't mean he might not be forced to, and it didn't hurt to be armed. Just in case.

 

+++

 

_He drifted in an ocean of darkness. There were no dreams there, no nightmares or memories, no pain or regret. It was peaceful, and although he couldn't remember why he felt elsewhere would be different , he wished he could stay there forever._

Nothing lasts forever ...

_Where did that thought come from? It flared to life in his mind and began to pulse cold, concentric rings through his entire body. The cold gathered in his hands and feet, turning leaden, dragging him down. He struggled, gasping for air that didn't exist, fighting against an invisible opponent he couldn't hope to defeat._

You cannot fight yourself ...

_A dull, aching pain seeped into his arms and shoulders. He felt stretched out, as though his body was being pulled in opposing directions._

"Wake up."

_Whipcrack command. His struggling ceased and he hovered in the darkness, heart hammering like a wild thing in his chest. He didn't want to wake up. Whatever lay beyond this world of darkness and peace, he had no wish to discover._

"Wake up, Loki."

_Snared by the use of his name, he struggled weakly, sinking down, down. A hand touched his face and he trembled._

"Wake up!"

_The hand struck him and he gasped --_

 

\-- eyes flaring open, the full assault of his senses crashing down on him.

The bright lights made him squint, sensitive eyes prickling with stinging tears. His shoulders burned and a soft groan sounded in his dry throat as he realised he was hanging from the ceiling by his wrists. His upper body had been stripped naked. Even the bandages covering his wound were gone. The wound itself was a shiny scar on both sides of his body, appearing practically fully healed, but there was a deep ache inside him that protested the strain his body was under. Bare feet scraped the floor as he struggled to get them under him. There was just enough slack in the binding chains for him to stand, but his shoulders continued to ache and his hands felt numb from blood loss. For a moment, Loki couldn't remember where he was. The last thing he recalled was Stark yelling at him to run, and then ... His eyes focused on the two men that stood within his line of vision. Recognition and memory slammed into him simultaneously. The first was the agent who'd shot him. The second was SHIELD's Director, Nick Fury. Loki growled and his chains jerked him back painfully when he tried to lunge forward.

"We have got to stop running into each other like this." Fury commented with a lack of concern that infuriated Loki.

He strained against the chains that bound him, meaning to snap them and use them to choke the life from the impudent humans that thought themselves his superior. He was more than a little alarmed to find they wouldn't break. That shouldn't be possible. He was a god, and these fools before him nothing but mortal. They should _not_ be able to restrain him. And yet here he was, unable to break free. Something very like panic fluttered in his gut before he ruthlessly pushed it away.

Very well. Brute force had never been his forte anyway. Loki turned his focus inwards and with the ease of any oft repeated action, cast a teleportation spell. Dread settled low in his belly when he received not even a weak flicker of response from his magic. When he turned his gaze inward he could 'see' it, like a cool green river flowing all through his body, but he couldn't touch it.He reached for the magic, and it was like he crashed up against a pane of glass, separating him from the power. It was a sensation Loki knew all too well from his time of imprisonment on Asgard. He glanced up, and sure enough, he could see the runes carved into the ornate shackles about his wrists. Suppression cuffs.

_Damn you Thor._

The venomous thought burned through his mind as Loki fixed his gaze back on Director Fury.

"Release me." A snarled demand.

The human arched an eyebrow, looking smug.

"I don't think you're in a position to be making demands, do you?"

Loki bared his teeth and said nothing. What was there to say? He and Fury both knew any threats he made would be empty at best. This time around there was no plan, no brainwashed Avenger and a team of agents coming to his rescue. The only one on his side was Stark, and he was just as trapped as Loki. If he was going to get out of this, he had to do it himself. Being alive and in command of his wits was a good start. The effects of the gun he'd been shot with seemed to have worn off, but Fury could have easily have him killed while he was unconscious. First thing was to find out why he yet lived, then use that reason to his advantage.

"What do you want from me?"

"Who says I want anything? Maybe I just like watching you squirm."

Loki smirked. "You're human. You always want _something_."

At that, Fury chuckled. "Something we have in common."

"Indeed." Loki stared at the Director's single eye, noting the similarity to his father, filing it away as just one more reason to hate him. "It's Stark, isn't it. Knowing I command his loyalty. Wondering how I did it."

"Enlighten me."

"It was _so_ easy." Loki clenched and unclenched his fingers, wincing at the prickling pain of blood struggling to numbed extremities.

"That's not an answer." Fury nodded to the silent agent beside him.

The man walked forward a few paces and without preamble, drove his fist into Loki's stomach. Loki gasped aloud as all the air rushed from his body and would have doubled over had the chains allowed it. The next blow struck him across the face, hard enough to split his lip. He grinned, tasting blood.

"Sweet nothings."

The third strike was aimed right at the scar. Pain flared in his abdomen and Loki grunted, breathing harshly as his head fell forward.

"What do you want with Stark?"

Loki rolled his eyes up and licked the blood from his lip. It wasn't the first time he'd ever taken a beating and compared to what he'd endured at Thanos' hands, Fury's methods were mere child's play. So far it was his pride that hurt the most.

"I want to see him under me again. I want to hear him beg me to take him, and scream my name when I make him come. I want --"

Another iron fisted punch to the face, and for a moment or two Loki saw stars. He blinked rapidly, peering through the locks of hair that fell over his face. He saw Fury nod, saw the agent back up a pace, saw his hand reaching for the mind-altering weapon he'd used earlier. Alarm bells rang in his head and Loki didn't hesitate. Before the agent could move completely out of his reach he grabbed the restraining chains and used them to support his weight, stomach muscles tightening as he lifted his legs off the ground and wrapped them tightly around the agent's neck. The gun fell from the agent's hand as he struggled to break free, but Loki was like a python, strong and sinuous, and he refused to let the hapless man go. A twist of his hips, an opposing jerk of his legs, and the agent's neck snapped. Only then did Loki release him. The body slumped heavily to the ground, Loki's feet touching down a few moments later.

Grim satisfaction. Fleeting, but it warmed him while it lasted. When he raised his eyes, Loki was ready for the sight of Fury standing safely out of reach with the gun pointed straight at him.

"You stupid sonofabitch."

Loki snarled at him, wordless rage. His eyes were dark and burned into Fury with the silent promise; _You're next._

Blue light flared and the pulse from the gun struck Loki in the chest. He flinched, bracing himself for the awful numbness that was to follow. Seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. Loki blinked, his thoughts racing, trying to keep his face blank and avoid betraying this unexpected turn of events.

Fury shot him again, and this time Loki's quick mind was ready for the brief, internal shimmer of a barrier between himself and the projectile. Confusion gave way to understanding. The suppression cuffs. The same power that separated him from his own magic was protecting him from the sorcery inside that gun. He felt the residue from the pulse crawling over him like static electricity, seeking an entrance to his mind but unable to find one.

"Stand down."

Fury couldn't be aware of this side effect of the cuffs. He couldn't _allowed_ to know. So Loki relaxed, face carefully blank as he met the Director's gaze. Inside he was grinning with glee.

At Fury's request, a pair of agents entered the room to remove the dead body. Loki ignored them, keeping his eyes focused on the Director as though he held his very will in his hands. As far as the unsuspecting human was aware, he did.  
When the agents were gone and the two of them were alone again, Fury resumed the interrogation.

"I'm going to ask you some questions. You will answer truthfully. Is that clear?"

"Yes, of course."

Truths intimately twisted with lies. This was the kind of game Loki excelled at.

"What're you doing on Earth? My last report from Thor said you were doing life in a cell on Asgard."

One question, and already the human's insecurities were showing. Surely if Thor was here Fury must have asked him how Loki had come to escape. Apparently SHIELD's Director didn't trust his otherworldly ally as much as he lead his people to believe. Interesting. Loki wondered how much Thor had actually told Fury about his part in the jailbreak. It was a potential chance to stir the pot, and Loki was going to take it.

"Thor attracted the attention of an old enemy by bringing an ancient weapon to Asgard. The city's defenders pushed back the initial attack, but Thor feared they would return and overrun us. He tried to convince Odin Allfather to allow him to take the weapon, and the fight, to our enemy in order to prevent further loss of life. Odin --"

"I don't have time for a history lesson. Give me the condensed version." Fury holstered the gun and folded his arms, making his leather jacket creak.

Loki paused, giving a slight nod before continuing. "Thor needed my help, so he freed me from prison. We travelled to Svartalfheim, where I was injured in battle. Thor thought me dead, so continued on in pursuit of his enemy without me. When I came to, I travelled to Midgard in search of a place to heal." It was difficult to speak of Svartalfheim and keep a straight face. His physical wounds might have healed, but Thor's abandonment festered deep inside him, pulsing bitterness and betrayal.

"Why Earth? You don't strike me as stupid, so why not someplace far away where no one knows you?"

"Midgard wasn't my choice. I was transported here by the Convergence. I simply made the most of the hand dealt me."

"Uh huh." Fury didn't look convinced. "And making the most of things included seeking out Tony Stark? One of the men responsible for stopping your little party last time you were in town?"

"My injuries were severe. I was incapable of protecting myself while I healed, so sought out someone powerful enough to do it for me."

"And you thought Stark would protect you, why?"

"Because Tony Stark is a sap." It hurt to say the words, more than Loki had expected. It was necessary. If he was to untangle Stark from this mess, Loki had to make himself out to be the monster they all believed he was. "Of all your Avengers, he is the weakest link. I learned all about him last time. He doesn't play by the rules. He isn't an obedient little dog, eager to please his masters for the chance of a pat on the head. He thinks too much. Asks too many questions." Loki smirked. "Easy to manipulate."

A frown creased Fury's brow. "And who exactly did you need protection from?"

"Thor, of course." Loki's gut twisted, but there was no point in bringing up Thanos. "If he learned I was alive he would take me back to Asgard."

"No one else? Stark mentioned someone named Thanos. He seemed ... concerned. Said you were tortured by him."

"A lie to gain his trust."

"A lie?"

"Yes."

"So there's no Thanos? He's not the one who sent you here to take the Tessaract?"

"No. I don't take orders, Director Fury."

"And seducing Stark? What was that all about?"

"An amusement. Barton told me Stark thinks with his cock. I wanted to find out if it was true." Loki grinned, showing his teeth.

"So he means nothing to you."

At that, Loki snorted. "Of course not. A plaything and a pleasant distraction, nothing more." He licked his lips. "Though given the chance I wouldn't say no to another ride ..."

"Quiet. I've heard enough."

Not taking his eye off Loki, Fury murmured something into his communicator. Another set of agents soon entered the room, and Loki couldn't suppress the sigh of relief that gusted past his lips when they released his hands from the binding chains. Blood rushed back into his limbs, making them burn and tingle painfully, and his stiff shoulders ached.

"Get him out of my sight."

"Yes Sir."

 

Loki was escorted through a short network of hallways to a small cell with heavily reinforced walls. All the way there he remained passive, knowing that with his wrists still bound and his magic out of reach, there was little chance of escaping the compound alive. Even so, he hesitated before stepping into the cell. Once he was locked inside, who knew when he might have another opportunity like this? And yet, what choice did he have? Captivity or death. He was patient. He could wait. Sooner or later, lulled to carelessness by their marvellous weapon, the humans would drop their guard around him, and then he would strike. Until then, he would wait.

Loki allowed the agents to nudge him into the cell and lock the door securely behind him. Finally alone, he sat down in the corner of the room and drew his knees up against his chest. He didn't have much hope that his little performance today would do much to benefit himself. He'd painted himself a heartless, lying villain. But if he could convince Fury that Stark was nothing more than a poor fool taken in by a master manipulator, then perhaps he at least could win his freedom.

Loki told himself he shouldn't care. That he _didn't_ care. His heart didn't believe him and called him a liar.

_God of Lies, your game is slipping ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omygosh, Deika lives. I am so so sorry for the long wait on this chapter. Things have been kinda rough. I fully intend to finish this thing, though! Thanks for sticking with me ^_^


	12. twelve

In the days that followed, Tony was released from his incarceration. There was a debriefing with Fury where the Director didn't exactly apologise for his actions, but did admit that he might have overreacted a little. Which in Tony's book, was close enough to the same thing for him to be satisfied. They both knew it was the best he was going to get.

Any inquiry he made about Loki was met with the same response - that he was in custody and undergoing interrogation. If he pushed the matter, Fury just looked at him with a kind of pitying disappointment that made Tony bristle. Something had happened. Something more than just capturing Loki. Damned if he could figure out what it was, though.

Fury wouldn't budge on the matter of the gun, either. It made no difference that Tony had seen the damn thing in action, it was all 'classified information' and couldn't be discussed. Such bullshit. Tony _knew_ it had something to do with Loki's sceptre. Somehow, SHIELD had found a way to harness the mind-altering power of that otherworldly weapon and use it as they willed. Once, not so long ago, Tony would have been excited and intrigued by the prospect. Now it worried him, a lot.

At last, he was dismissed. Making a mental note to get on to Steve and find out if he'd managed to learn anything more, Tony passed through the last security check-point and left the 'authorised personnel only' section of the facility. The first check-point he'd encountered upon leaving his cell had been a moment of panic, what with Loki's dagger tucked into his sock, hidden away under his pants leg. But whatever the Asgardian blade was made from, it didn't register on SHIELD's metal detectors, and none of the guards bothered to search him. Score one for the little guy.

Tony walked down a short corridor, turned a corner into a waiting room, and without warning, was confronted by a very anxious Pepper Potts.

"Tony! Oh my god, you look terrible, are you okay? I've been so _worried_!"

Jesus Christ. With all that had been going on, Tony had forgotten all about Pepper. He dredged up what he hoped was a disarming smile.

"Hey, Pep. Yeah, I'm fine, I'm good. Whoa, don't get too close," He warned as she grabbed his arms, looking him over critically. "I'm in desperate need of a shower."

"Oh. Oh god ... You really are." Pepper's eyes were practically watering as she backed away, hands raised as if to fend off the smell. Her pretty little nose scrunched up in dismay. "These people are awful! Treating you like an animal. If Phil was here there's no way he would --" She broke off when she realised what she was saying and gave a sad little sigh. "Well. I'm glad you're out."

"Yeah, me too." Tony looked around, feigning interest in the room. As good as it was to see Pepper and be around someone who actually gave a damn about him, she wasn't who he wanted to talk to right now. "I have to stick around a while longer, though. Director's orders."

"What's this all about, Tony? I saw Thor the other day, and there's been all this talk about Loki being back, and there was a _huge blood stain in the penthouse!_ But no one will tell me what's going on!"

"It's ..." Tony winced, wishing he could tell the truth, knowing he'd have to eventually, wanting to put it off as long as possible. "It's complicated."

"Then explain it to me." Pepper's voice turned sharp. "I'm not an idiot Tony, my brain is capable of grasping more than the most basic of concepts."

"I know you're not an idiot, Pep. You're one of the smartest people I know. I'm just - I'm tired. I'm dirty, I stink, I feel like crap. Can this wait? I promise I'll explain everything later."

Pepper sighed, and her expression softened. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Tony placed a hand over his heart. "I promise I'm okay."

"Alright. Then it can wait. Go and get cleaned up. Is there anything I can pick up for you from the tower?"

Tony thought about that for a moment. "Clothes, my tablet. Maybe a bottle of scotch." He paused, then added. "My briefcase."

Pepper's eyes widened, "The --"

"Yeah." Tony cut her off before she could say it. He had no doubts the whole building was under constant surveillance and he wanted to keep this card up his sleeve for as long as possible.

After studying him for a long moment, Pepper nodded. "Alright. I'll be back soon."

"Thanks babe."

Tony leaned over to kiss her cheek, but was stopped halfway by a dainty hand against his lips.

"Oh no, not until you've showered."

\---

Showers, Tony decided, were a gift from god. He spent close to an hour under the hot water, and it was quite possibly the closest thing to a religious experience he'd ever known. It definitely made him feel something close to human again. Pepper wasn't back yet, so dressed in borrowed slacks and a black t shirt, Tony left the room he'd been allocated for his extended stay at SHIELD HQ, and went in search of Steve.

He didn't get far - intercepted on the way by one of Fury's assistants, who informed him the Director wanted to see him.

"Any idea what he wants?" Tony tried not to grumble. He'd just left Fury, but he supposed he should be grateful for another chance to hound him about Loki. This was a problem he was going to have to be proactive about. Nothing would happen if he just sat around on his hands for the next few days.

"The Director didn't say. Only that it was important."

"Huh."

The young woman flashed a brief, understanding smile, but said no more. She lead Tony through the complex to a carpeted hallway that ended in a closed door. There, she knocked smartly then opened the door and leaned into the room.

"Mr Stark is here to see you, Sir."

Tony didn't hear Fury's reply, but the woman smiled again and gestured for him to enter.

"Thanks." He nodded to her and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"You're looking better." Fury stood with his back to a window, his face as carefully unreadable as always.

"Yeah ..." Tony moved further into the room, eyes scanning his surroundings, not one hundred percent sure he wanted to be there. "What's this about? Forget to tell me you loved me?"

"Decided I wanted to show you something." Three paces, and Fury was behind his desk, calling up an image on the projector screen on the other side of the room. "You might want to sit down for this."

"I'll stay standing, thanks." Alarmed and doing his damndest not to show it, Tony settled for a frown.

Fury just shrugged and hit a button. For a moment the screen remained black, then blinked to a view of a medium sized cell with harsh fluorescent lights. Three men were in the cell, and Tony's frown deepened when he recognised them all. One was Fury, another the asshole agent who'd shot Loki. The third man was Loki himself, half naked and hanging by chains from the ceiling.

"The hell is this?" Tony rounded on Fury, angered by the medieval scene.

"Just watch."

Tony watched, and listened, as the interrogation unfolded before him. His face remained blank when he heard his name mentioned, and allowed himself to give no reaction when Loki said it had been easy to win his trust. The Asgardian was clearly taunting Fury, it didn't take a genius to see that. When the nameless agent began throwing punches Tony winced and vowed to introduce his fist to the man's face, first chance he got. Seconds later the agent was dead on the floor. _Shit._ Should he be pleased for Loki's swift revenge, or dismayed by the fact that he'd killed a SHIELD agent? Tony paled as on screen, Fury picked up the fallen gun and aimed it at Loki.

At that point, Fury paused the playback and pulled the gun from a holster inside his jacket, setting it down on the desk with a heavy clunk.

"I'm sure that after what you saw in your cell, you've guessed the function of this weapon. But to make sure we're both on the same page, I'll clarify for you. The pulses emitted effect the brain, allowing the wielder to override the target's free will."

"Mind control?" Tony felt sick.

"Yes."

"How'd you do it? No wait, let me guess. You've had that damn sceptre hidden away all this time, haven't you? Ever since the Chitauri invasion your pet scientists have been happily experimenting, playing with powers beyond their understanding."

Fury looked like he wasn't going to answer, then he gave a single nod. "Yes."

"Fuck! I knew it!"

It was exactly as he'd feared. Mind control. Powerful enough to overwhelm a god. Christ. Tony's hands clenched into fists, shook out, raked back through his hair. The Tessaract powered weapons had been bad enough. This was so much worse. If it fell into the wrong hands ... Assuming it hadn't already ... Was SHIELD the wrong hands? Tony didn't know, and that not knowing was scary enough in itself.

"Is it permanent? Is that the only one?" Tony pointed at the desk.

"All tests so far indicate that the effects are not permanent. The time frame alters from person to person, but eventually all tested targets have regained their autonomy. And yes." Fury fixed Tony with a steady look. "Right now that is the only working prototype."

"Shit ..." Tony shook his head, then a thought occurred to him. "Wait, why are you telling me all this? What happened to 'classified information'?"

"Because I want you to fully understand the implications of what comes next." Fury gestured to the screen.

In silence, Tony turned back and watched in sick anticipation as the footage resumed. He saw Loki shot with the gun, watched with dismay as all the fight seemed to flow out of him. Dispassionately, Loki told the tale of how he'd come to Earth, injured and in need of aid. The questions continued, and then came the punch line.

_"And you thought Stark would protect you, why?"_

_"Because Tony Stark is a sap._ _Of all your Avengers, he is the weakest link. I learned all about him last time. He doesn't play by the rules. He isn't an obedient little dog, eager to please his masters for the chance of a pat on the head. He thinks too much. Asks too many questions."_ On screen, Loki smirked. _"Easy to manipulate."_

Hearing those words was like being punched in the gut. All the air seemed to go out of Tony's lungs and he stared blinking at the screen, unable to believe it. No. Loki was obviously lying.

_"No one else? Stark mentioned someone named Thanos. He seemed ... concerned. Said you were tortured by him."_

_"A lie to gain his trust."_

_"A lie?"_

_"Yes."_

No! He'd seen Loki's face when he spoke of the torture. He'd heard his voice break, felt his body tremble. He'd been there to witness Loki's nightmare. You couldn't fake that kind of pain. You just couldn't! It had been _real_. Tony bit his lips together, the fingers of one hand tapping against his thigh. He could feel Fury watching him, but he couldn't turn away from the screen.

_"An amusement. Barton told me Stark thinks with his cock. I wanted to find out if it was true."_

It wasn't true. Tony refused to believe it. He clung to the knowledge that Loki had come to save him, that he'd put himself at risk for Tony's sake. He remembered the pity and understanding on Thor's face, and the Thunderer's certainty that his brother had been using him.

_"Loki is a very talented liar ... I know not what he plans, but he is using you, Tony."_

Fury said that the gun allowed him to take control of the target's mind. He'd shot Loki, then commanded him to speak the truth. The seeds of doubt sprouted vines that began to wind around Tony's heart.

_"So he means nothing to you."_

_"Of course not. A plaything and a pleasant distraction, nothing more. Though given the chance I wouldn't say no to another ride ..."_

"Turn it off."

"Hm?" Fury arched an eyebrow and that little gesture made Tony want to throw him out the window.

"I said turn it off! I've seen enough."

Loki was being unchained from the ceiling when the video went black. For a long time Tony stood there staring at the blank screen. He didn't know what to do next, didn't know how to react. He'd been played good and proper, and for some horrifying reason his heart was hurting worse than his pride.

"Stark."

"Why did you show me this?" He turned on Fury, fighting a tremor in his hands.

"So you would know the truth. You wouldn't believe me if I told you. You had to see for yourself."

"Shit fuck!" Tony looked away, unable to face the other man. Maybe what people said about him was true after all. Maybe he was weak, all too eager to chase the next pretty thing that looked his way and believe whatever lies were whispered in his ear. What had he been thinking? This was _Loki_ for crying out loud! He should have known something was up the second that asshole walked through the door.

"Tony,"

"What?!"

"Don't beat yourself up over this. This is his MO. Last time it was Barton."

"Barton?" Tony swore bitterly. "He got brainwashed by a magic glowstick. This is all on me. That what you wanna hear? I made a mistake. I was wrong. Is this the part where you say, 'I told you so'?"

"Believe it or not, Tony, seeing you in pain doesn't please me."

"Just ... Save it. Are we done here?"

Fury sighed. "We're done."

Tony didn't bother with farewells. He let himself out of the office and made his way back to his room in a daze. He'd never felt so irreparably stupid in his entire life. Sure he'd been used by women before - gold diggers only interested in his money or his playboy status. This was different. Worse. He'd put himself on the line for Loki, and for what? So the Asgardian prick could have a good laugh at his expense? It was embarrassing and ego shattering, and most of all it hurt, because he truly had come to care for Loki.

\---

Later that afternoon, Pepper returned with the items he'd asked her to collect from the tower. The clothes and scotch were welcome arrivals, but the rest were set aside, no longer needed. Tony hid the briefcase under the bed, along with Loki's dagger, opened the bottle and proceeded to tell Pepper everything that had happened. Nothing was held back, not even his own willingness to go along with the deception.

Pepper, to her credit, took it pretty well. She was understandably angry when Tony confessed to cheating on her, but she grew quiet and thoughtful as the tale went on. By the time Tony was finished, Pepper was sitting beside him on the bed, one of his hands clasped in both her own.

"Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" There was no hint of accusation in her voice. Just a kind of quiet, sad humour.

"I'm sorry Pep. I screwed up."

"You sure did."

"Tell me how to fix it." It was hard to look at her, but he managed. "Anything. Just say the word."

"I don't think you can, Tony." Pepper touched his cheek gently. "People, and feelings aren't machines. Some things can't be fixed."

"I don't know what to do." Emptiness. Something warm and familiar being taken away from him.

"You'll go on, as you always do. You'll be Tony Stark, and Iron Man, and the world will keep turning." She leaned over and kissed the corner of his lips, softly, sweetly. "But I can't stand by your side while you do it. Not anymore."

"Pepper." Her name turned into a plea.

She rose from the bed, hands slipping out of his grasp as she walked towards the door. There, she paused and looked back.

"You'll be fine, Tony." A smile, and then she was gone.

Tony didn't bother using the glass. He took a long swallow straight from the bottle and cursed the day Loki walked into his life.

 

+++

 

Time had little meaning when one was locked in a metal box with constant fluorescent lighting. Common sense told him it could only have been a few days, but already Loki felt the world slipping away from him. At first he tried clinging to his sense of the here and now, tried his best to stay alert, ready for whatever unpleasantness SHIELD might have planned for him. That vigilance didn't last long. It was exhausting staying so intensely focused when absolutely nothing was going on around him. It made the hours stretch out into eternity, uncomfortably bright, with no relief in sight.

Little by little, Loki began to drift. He didn't think he slept at all, but managed to fall into a kind of waking dreaming. Sometimes the dreams were pleasant, his imagination conjuring up images of a peaceful life free of failure and ambition and obligation. Sometimes the dreams were bittersweet. Memories of his mother and childhood with Thor. More frequently he was chased by nightmares, haunted by past strife, visions of pain and torture. Whenever that happened he would force himself back to awareness of his surroundings and find solace staring at the wall. The best dreams were the ones that featured Stark. Loki clung to those dreams, finding comfort in warm brown eyes and an arrogant smile, but they always dissipated quickly, leaving him sad and alone.

The dreams were sporadically broken by visits from Director Fury. During those times he bombarded Loki with questions about all manner of things, but specifically, questions about Asgard and the other realms Loki had knowledge of. Even if he didn't have to keep up the charade of being absolutely truthful, Loki would have had no qualms about supplying him with the answers. With Frigga gone, there were no more ties to bind him to Asgard. No sense of loyalty or the need to protect its secrets. So Loki happily rattled off information about the realm's defences and military, its social structure, hierarchy, foreign relations, medicine, magic and technology.

Fury was particularly interested in Mjölnir, and spent one session questioning Loki intensely about the hammer. Loki was hard pressed not to smirk with delight as he revealed all he knew about the weapon, imagining what Thor would say if he knew.

Thor, predictably enough, was not happy with him.

 

+++

 

"If you wanted to know of Asgard, you should have asked me!"

After days of wrestling with Director Fury over the matter of Loki's custody, Thor's temper had finally snapped. He was furious with his supposed ally for going behind his back to learn of his home's most intimate secrets, and he couldn't think of Loki without being near overcome with the urge to go to his cell and beat him to a pulp with Mjölnir.

"Would you have answered my questions if I'd asked?" Fury, for his part, was unmoved by Thor's anger. He sat behind his desk, completely unfazed by the god pacing his office.

"No, I would not! Nor, I think, would you tell me the full extent of your world's security measures!" Thunder rumbled when Fury gave no response. "Our people are not enemies, Director! Yet you seem determined to believe it a possibility."

"I believe everyone is a possible enemy. How do you think I've stayed alive this long?"

Thor growled. "I am taking Loki back to Asgard. It is not your place to hold him here."

"You know I can't allow that."

"You have no say in the matter! In good faith I have given you these days to ask your questions, and you have betrayed my trust. I will wait no longer. Loki is my responsibility and he will return to Asgard with me."

"Loki is in custody because of my people's efforts. Aren't you the one who set him free in the first place? I don't think much can be said for your sense of 'responsibility'."

Lightening roiled in Thor's blue eyes. "The matter is not up for discussion. Loki comes with me." He stalked for the door.

"Thor. Thor!"

He ignored the Director, hearing his voice follow him out the door and down the hallway. He was through negotiating.

 

+++

 

"Nat."

Clint poked his head into a board room, saw no sign of his elusive red haired partner, and moved on.

"Naaat."

It was late morning and Natasha hadn't shown up for their usual down-time ritual of coffee and gossip. Clint knew better than to be worried, but it bugged him all the same. Since Loki had been taken into custody things had been quiet around HQ, but Clint had a finely tuned sense for the not quite right. Something was up.

After a good half hour of searching, he finally tracked Natasha to an out of the way lounge on one of the building's upper floors. She was curled up on the couch with a tablet in hand, and barely looked up when Clint entered the room.

"Hey, I was looking for you."

"Oh, hey." Natasha glanced at him then back down, brow furrowed as she watched something on screen.

"You alright? You look like crap."

And she did. Dressed in sweat pants, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, dark circles under her eyes, Natasha looked like she hadn't slept in at least a week. When she didn't answer, Clint prodded further.

"You been here all night?"

"Yeah. Working."

"On what?" Curious, Clint paced over to the couch and dropped down beside her. When he leaned over and caught a glimpse of what was on screen, he made a disgruntled sound and straightened up. "Loki? Really?"

"Mm." Natasha finally lowered the tablet and looked at him. "It's bugging me. There's something not right about the whole situation."

"You mean, besides the whole situation?" Clint made a face. "Nat, the guy's a creep. There'd be something wrong if he _didn't_ set off your weird'o'metre."

"It's not that." Shaking her head, Natasha sighed and ran a hand through her hair, pulling it free of its ponytail. "I've watched all the footage of him since he arrived here. And, I can't quite place it, but there's something different about him."

"He manipulated one of us into doing his bidding, told a bunch of lies, killed an agent - I dunno, I'd say he's pretty well up to par." Clint didn't like where this was going, and it showed in his voice. "Does Fury even know you're looking at this stuff?"

Natasha shot him a sharp look. "No. And I'd like it to stay that way."

Clint held up his hands in an 'I surrender' gesture. "Won't say a word. What're you looking for, exactly?"

Natasha answered the question with one of her own. "When you were with him, what would you say he was like?"

"What, you mean other than a homicidal maniac?"

"Other than that. I'm serious Clint, think."

"Okay, alright." Clint huffed, an unhappy frown creasing his brow. "I'm thinking."

He didn't like thinking back to those days of helplessness. Sometimes it was like a bad dream, hazy, and he could almost convince himself it hadn't really happened. Other times it was burned into his mind, clear as his own reflection in the mirror. Either way, they weren't good memories, but he forced himself to go there now, because he trusted Natasha's judgement and she seemed to think it was important.

"He seemed ... driven." Clint finally said. "Like something was constantly riding his ass. Urgent, y'know? I never saw him relax, or take a break. There was nothing but the mission."

"Mm." Natasha nodded. "That's the impression I got, the one time I spoke with him. In that cell, even when he thought he was alone, he was always 'on'. Waiting, anticipating."

"Alright. We agree on that. What's your point?"

"He's different now." She repeated her earlier observation and handed the tablet over to him. "For a long while I couldn't place it. I kept trying to come up with a better word, but always came back to the same one."

"What word?"

"Take a look, tell me what you think."

Clint held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed and did as she asked. The screen appeared to be showing a live feed of Loki's cell. Not much was happening. Loki sat in a corner with his knees drawn up, chin rested on his folded arms. His eyes were open but seemed unseeing, gazing blankly at the wall, and there was a dejected slump to his shoulders. Gone was the single-minded focus Clint had known before. Gone was the ambition, the pride, the air of superiority. He seemed ...

"Sad."

"Hm?" Natasha tilted her head to the side.

"He looks sad. Like he just found out his dog died, or something."

"Yeah ..." Her head dropped onto Clint's shoulder as she joined him in gazing at the screen. "Now I might be wrong, but Loki never struck me as the kind of guy who'd go and cry in a corner just because a plan failed."

"What else has he got to be upset about?"

Natasha lifted her head again and looked at him. "What did he come here for?"

"What ... No. You're not saying - Shit, you are!" Clint tossed the tablet back at her, meeting her clear eyed gaze with incredulity. "He is not pining over Stark."

"Just go with me on this, okay?" Agile fingers flew over the tablet, shutting down the live feed and bringing up a new image. When Clint focused on it, he saw that it was footage from Tony's cell.

"I've already seen this, Nat."

"Shh. Pay attention." She skipped the video forward until it reached the point where Loki appeared in the cell, moments before the two SHIELD agents entered. Clint knew what to expect, and watched dispassionately as Loki was shot with Fury's prototype.

"Nat -"

"Look, here." She paused the footage and zoomed in on Loki's left hand, held close to his thigh. The camera angle almost hid it but in the freeze frame Clint could clearly see the dagger. Natasha nodded. "Now watch."

The video zoomed back out and began to play again at half speed. Clint saw the moment when the dagger slipped from Loki's hand and hit the floor. No one else in the room seemed to notice. How could they have missed that? Amateurs.

"Watch his foot."

The barest of movements, but enough to nudge the blade under the bed, out of sight.

"Why would he bother to hide it?" Clint frowned. There was no point he could see, unless it was for someone's benefit other than his own. There was only one other 'someone' that could be.

"Mm hm." Natasha made a pleased sound, guessing the way his thoughts were heading. "Now watch his hand again."

She zoomed the video in again, and Clint's frown deepened when he saw the twitch of Loki's fingers. It could just be written off as random movement, fighting the effects of the mind control, but it looked almost like he was ...

"Reaching for him." Clint murmured as Tony took Loki's hand. He felt Natasha nod, but didn't take his eyes away from the screen. He saw Loki turn his head, saw his lips move, but whatever he said was too soft for the audio to pick up. "Go back. Zoom in on his mouth."

Natasha did as he asked, and Clint's eyes narrowed as he tried to make out what Loki was saying. A lot of the time his deafness was viewed as a disability, by others and by himself, but it did have the occasional perk. Being hard of hearing had prompted Clint to become a very adept lip reader.

"Again. I think ..." His own lips silently framed the word. "Ant? ... Anthony ..." He looked up and met Natasha's gaze. "Tony."

"Calling for help? A warning? An apology?"

"Doesn't mean anything." Clint sniffed and rolled his shoulders. "Could still be an act. And what the hell? No one calls Tony 'Anthony'."

"Exactly." Natasha seemed to think that was significant, but Clint couldn't for the life of him guess why. "I don't think it was an act. He didn't have to come here at all. If he really was just using Tony, it seems more likely that he'd cut his losses and go when we took him in, rather than risk himself trying to save him."

"So, what, you're saying Loki isn't the bad guy here? That he means us no harm and just wants to spend time with his new honey?" Clint scratched his head. "That's an awful lot of assumption there Nat."

"I know. It's just this feeling I have. Can't shake it."

Just a feeling. So little to go on, but sometimes all a person has - all a person _needs_ to make the right call. It was _just a feeling_ that had prompted Clint to make a risky call on Natasha all those years ago. Was this the same thing? He didn't know. His own gut instinct was to mistrust anything Loki said or did. Was that past experience messing with his judgement of the here and now, or just good common sense?

"What about the gun? He was shot several times. He shouldn't be able to act as he pleases."

Natasha shrugged. "It's only been tested on humans. No proof that it even works on Asgardians."

Clint sighed, knowing she was right. "Well ... Nothing we can do about it anyway."

"Yeah ..."

Clint wished he could be sure that would be the end of it. The look on Natasha's face said otherwise.

 

+++

 

"Loki!"

Loki blinked and raised his eyes slowly, too despondent to care that a very angry god of Thunder was bearing down on him.

"Hello brother."

With the door closed behind him, Thor seemed to take up a good deal more space in the cell than he should. He glared down at Loki, all golden, righteous anger.

"What do you think you're playing at?"

"Playing?" Loki didn't have to feign ignorance. There were a good many reasons for Thor to be angry with him, so he just raised his eyebrows and waited to find out which it was.

Thor, apparently, was feeling physical as well as angry. He reached down and dragged Loki up off the floor, then slammed him back against the wall, hard enough to make his bones rattle. Loki grunted and winced at the tight grip Thor had on his biceps.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you? Is there any detail about Asgard that you failed to reveal to Fury?"

Loki made an innocent face. "Why, I thought the Director was your ally? What's a few secrets between friends?" He smiled, knowing it would infuriate his brother. "Could it be you don't trust him?"

Thor evaded the question. "Asgard is your home too. Have you no sense of loyalty at all?"

"Asgard ceased to be my home a long time ago." Loki snapped. "A frost giant has no place in the golden city."

"That's it? For the sake of bitterness, you would betray all of our secrets?"

"Bitter?" A humourless laugh. "I am far beyond bitter, Odinson." Loki shoved Thor away from him and stalked to the other end of the room, putting what little distance there was between them. "Regardless, I was without choice. Fury made sure of that."

"You should not have been here at all! What did you hope to accomplish, hiding out with Stark? Did you think I wouldn't find you?"

"Do you blame me for hoping as much? What did you expect me to do? Lick my wounds then come trotting home like a good little dog, ready and eager for an eternity locked inside a glass box? Is that what the worthy and honourable Thor would have done?!"

Bitterness flexed icy cold talons around Loki's chest. He felt short of breath and his eyes stung with sudden unshed tears. Thor truly cared nothing for him. All the warmth he had discovered in Stark's arms slipped away from him like the ocean tide. All that remained was a frozen core.

"In light of your crimes, it was a lenient punishment. You know it was only at mother's insistence that you were spared execution."

Thor's voice was flat and without emotion, and his words ignited a thread of desperation in Loki's veins. He couldn't go back. Given the choice between death and imprisonment, he would gladly accept the execution thus far denied him.

"I know you already think me mad, brother, but you condemn me to insanity. Is madness more palatable to you than death? Would you rest easier having spared my worthless life? Perhaps you could even come to visit me, then, in a thousand years, in three thousand years, when I no longer remember your face or my own name. Would that assuage your guilt? Or would you just wipe me from thought completely, content in the knowledge that the villain Loki is reaping his just rewards?"

Thor's silence was worse than anything he might have said. Silence meant he didn't think Loki worth his words. Silence meant he no longer cared. A single, traitorous tear slipped down Loki's cheek.

"Answer me." Silence. " _Answer me!_ "

"Enough." A final, gruff reply. "I'll hear no more on the matter. In fact, considering your loose tongue of late, I think it best that you not speak at all."

"What?" Loki saw Thor's hand move to a small pouch secured to his belt, and was instantly wary. He took a step sideways, back pressed hard against the wall and found himself wedged into a corner. "Thor ..."

From the pouch, Thor withdrew a large needle and a reel of thin leather twine. They looked innocuous enough, but even behind the barrier created by the suppression cuffs, Loki could sense the magic woven into the twine, and knew it for what it was. An archaic means of silencing magic, nowadays considered barbaric and rarely used in modern Asgardian society. And unlike the cuffs, which merely blocked the use of magic, the twine had the added effect of cancelling out spells cast prior to its use.

"Do not fight me, Loki. It will only make this harder on you."

Unconsciously, Loki licked his lips. "Thor, no. Don't do this." His voice trembled and he pressed himself further into the corner. Anticipation of the pain was bad enough. Worse, was the knowledge of what would be revealed once his magic was cancelled out completely. "Brother -"

"My brother died when he fell from the Bifrost." Thor threaded the needle then looked up at him, eyes cold and hard. "I hoped, prayed, that he would return. Whoever you are, you are not him."

When Thor strode forward and grabbed his chin, Loki struggled. For a few moments they scuffled, locked together, a grim parody of the play-fights they had staged when they were young. Thor had always been the stronger of the two. He wrestled Loki to the floor and pinned him on his back, straddling his hips. One vice-like hand gripped Loki's chin and held his head still while the other moved the needle into position at the right corner of his lips.

" _Thor --_ "

Loki fought, but lacked the strength to break free. He cried out when the needle pierced his flesh, due more to despair than the pain, though that too was great. Tears slipped from his eyes and ran down his temples. The twine dragged through his bottom lip until it went taut, then the needle was driven through his top lip, and the process repeated. Already Loki could feel his magic fraying. The illusion that hid his true form shuddered and his vision blurred. The first stitch pulled tight. Whatever emotions Thor was feeling were hidden behind a steely mask as he moved to continue his grisly task.

Desperate and terrified, Loki rolled his eyes around, seeking the hidden security camera.

" _Anthony! --_ "

 

+++

 

Tony emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his hips to find Natasha Romanov waiting for him. She stood just inside the door in a casual pose, arms loosely folded while her eyes gave Tony a very obvious once over.

"Whoa, Romanov." Tony did a double take and made sure his towel was secure. "I'm not usually opposed to being naked around beautiful women, but damn, don't people call anymore? Or at least text?"

"Love you too Tony."

"Jesus Christ Barton!" He hadn't even noticed the archer standing over by the window.

Clint grinned and blew him a kiss.

"Okay, this officially just got weird. What is this, some kind of SHIELD hazing ritual? Where's Steve? He gonna crawl out from under the bed and jump me?"

"Shut up Tony. And put some pants on." Natasha's voice left no room for argument.

"Alright. Testy." Muttering to himself, Tony rummaged around in the bag Pepper had left for him and found a pair of jeans. It seemed childish to return to the bathroom to change, so he just turned around, dropped the towel and pulled on the pants.

"Nice ass Stark."

Tony buttoned the jeans, buckled his belt, then turned and gave a leering Clint the finger. "Fuck you, Barton." Not bothering with a shirt, he went and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Don't get me wrong, I love unexpected company," His tone of voice said the opposite was very much the case, "but what're you both doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"Shit. When a woman says that, it's always something bad." Tony held up his hands in a placating gesture when Natasha arched her brows at him. A heavy sigh gusted past his lips. "Okay, talk. What about?"

"Loki."

"Ugh. Of course, what else." Tony rolled his eyes. Why couldn't they just let the matter rest? They had Loki locked up in a box, what more did they want?

"This is important, Tony."

"Sure it is. Fine. What about him?"

"We think he's been lying."

At that, Tony burst out laughing. He couldn't help it, the idea that Loki would be doing anything _other_ than lying was completely ludicrous. Natasha frowned at him and Tony made a real effort to regain control of himself. Black Widow was scary when she was angry.

"I'm sorry. You're a little late to the party, aren't you? This is Loki we're talking about, right? The god of Lies?"

"She means to Fury, not to you." From his place by the window, Clint spoke up.

"What?"

"We believe that ever since he's been here, Loki's been feeding Fury whatever he thinks he wants to hear." Natasha's voice was quiet, but sure of itself.

Tony shook his head. "That's not possible. Fury has him mind controlled, he has to speak the truth."

"What if the gun doesn't work on him?"

"What? No." Tony met Natasha's eyes, green, but so different to Loki's, and struggled to get his thoughts together. "I saw him get shot in the cell with me. He was like a zombie, didn't fight back at all."

"What if that was all an act?"

His gaze was drawn back over to Clint. "What're you saying?"

"I'm saying, what if he _let_ SHIELD capture him? Wouldn't be the first time."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would he do that?"

"Think about it, Tony. What did he come here for?" When Tony gave no response, Clint prompted him. "To get you out of prison."

"Allegedly. There's no proof -"

"And where are you now?"

"Out of ... prison." Tony looked down at his hands as his heart gave a funny little thump in his chest. They were telling him everything he wanted to hear. He didn't want to believe, didn't want to let himself hope, only to be kicked in the guts again when it all turned out to be bullshit. He raised his eyes again, glancing from one agent to the other. "No. I've been down that rabbit hole already. This is what he does. He twists things. None of it's real."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Clint shrugged. "I know a sacrifice play when I see it."

Tony was starting to feel panicky. "I don't - Why bring this up now? What's the point?"

"Because right now Thor is on his way to Loki's cell. I think he means to take him back to Asgard." Natasha pressed her lips together, allowing Clint to take over.

"We all know there's no way Fury's just gonna let him walk out of here with his prize. This is gonna end in a fire fight."

"Unless someone else steps in and takes Loki out of reach of them both."

Two pairs of eyes focused on Tony. He sat there stupidly for a moment before he realised what they were saying. "What? You mean me?!"

"Who else?" Natasha gave an exasperated sigh. "Tony, you're the only one capable of doing this."

"Why do you care?" Why was he still fighting it? "Why do you give a shit about what happens to him?"

"I don't." Her voice was flat. "If he was the only one involved, I wouldn't give a damn. But I care about you. And I care about this organisation. And if this is allowed to play out the way it's headed, a lot of people are going to get hurt."

"Shit." Tony muttered and rose from the bed to retrieve his tablet, firing it up while Natasha raised an incredulous eyebrow at him.

"Is that a Stark-pad? How'd you get that in here?"

"Science powers. You know I can't stand your plebeian SHIELD tech. JARVIS, I need a live feed of Loki's cell."

"Right away, Sir."

"What're you doing, Stark?" Clint sounded tense.

"Need to see this for myself."

When the requested video blinked onto the screen, Tony was not ready for the scene playing out before him. The two Asgardians were on the floor, wrestling with one another. Loki was on the bottom and struggling, but he was clearly no match for Thor's superior strength. As Tony watched, Thor grabbed Loki's face, holding him still. There was something in Thor's other hand, something small and metallic that glinted in the light.

"Zoom in, J."

Was that a needle and thread? Tony felt a sick lurch in his stomach when he put two and two together and realised what Thor was doing. He was ... God, it was too awful to watch, but Tony couldn't tear his eyes away. Thor was sewing Loki's lips shut.

"What the _fuck_ ..."

At that moment, Loki's eyes rolled up and seemed to look straight at him.

" _Anthony! --_ "

That desperate cry went straight to Tony's heart and shattered it. The tablet slipped from his fingers and he dropped to his knees, reaching under the bed for his briefcase.

"Tony, what're you doing?" Clint's voice, tense and concerned.

Tony barely heard him. His hand fumbled around under the bed, found the dagger and slid it carefully through his belt.

"Tony!" Natasha was by the bed, picking up the tablet. Tony caught another glimpse of the video playing as he rose to his feet. On the screen, Loki had ceased to fight. He lay there, utterly defeated while Thor stitched his lips closed.

"Get Thor out of there. Distract him."

"What're you going to do?!"

Tony paused at the door and his voice went quiet. "Keep my promise."

He ran.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two weeks? What's going on? The Muse is a fickle lover, but when she's here, she treats me good.  
> Hope this one wasn't too fragmented. And oh god. So. Much. Dialogue. o_o  
> Much love. We're getting close to the end now!


	13. thirteen

There was no point going directly to Loki's holding cell - not only was the way blocked with numerous security check-points, but Tony would also end up face to face with Thor, an outcome he wanted very much to avoid right now. As much as he'd like to go in guns blazing, he knew the chances for success on such an approach were slim to none. So he took a different route, navigating the tangle of corridors until he reached a part of the building that should put him _behind_ the cell.

Out of breath, Tony ducked into an empty office and activated the briefcase. The familiar whir of electronics as the suit unfolded was music to his ears, and within seconds he was safely encased in red and gold armour.

_Daddy's home._

"JARVIS, what're these walls made of?"

" _The building is a basic steel and concrete structure. Loki's cell, however, is re-enforced with a silicon-carbide vibranium alloy._ "

Shit, that didn't sound promising. Tony scanned the walls in front of him, made sure no innocent bystanders were in the way on the other side, and began blasting his way through with the suit's repulsors. Two empty rooms, three, then a fourth room that contained a handful of SHIELD suits working in cubicles. Tony stepped from the rubble of the smashed wall and eyeballed the startled employees through the visor of the suit.

"Get out."

Unsurprisingly, they went.

 

Tony approached the fall wall and laid his gauntleted hand against the plaster. Loki was on the other side.

"Show me what's going on in there."

An image tapped from the cell's security camera immediately blinked into the upper corner of his HUD. Thor was in the doorway, standing off with a small legion of armed agents. There was no sign of Barton and Romanov, but a quick check of nearby cameras told him they weren't far away. A shirtless Loki was huddled on the floor with his face hidden and - was his skin _blue_? For a moment Tony was too stunned to do anything even remotely useful. Why was he blue? The fuck did Thor do to him?! A mental shake. It didn't matter. Blue or not, right now nothing mattered except getting Loki out of there.

"JARVIS, what're my chances of cutting through this?"

In its pure form, vibranium was supposed to be indestructible. Tony was praying on the chance that due to the scarcity of the metal, calling this wall an alloy was more of technicality than anything else, and it would prove to be a little more yielding.

" _I believe a significant application of power could prove effective._ "

"I bet you say that to all the boys. Okay. You know what to do."

" _Redirecting power now._ "

Tony backed up a pace, raised his arm to head height and fired the laser. It cut through plaster and cement like a hot knife through butter, and sparks began to fly when it hit the cell wall. The HUD lit up with scans and diagnostics, indicating that at this rate, it would take the better part of an hour to cut through. Tony didn't have that kind of time.

"Increase power."

The laser beam intensified, cutting faster, but nowhere near fast enough for Tony's liking. The suit's sensors told him numerous agents were converging on his location, and inside the cell Thor was growing ever more agitated.

"More, J."

" _Sir, I don't think -_ "

"I don't care! Put everything into it. Now!"

JARVIS gave no response, but he obeyed the command. Every scrap of power that wasn't required to keep the suit functioning was redirected to the laser. A constant shower of sparks pinged off the suit's armour and inside the HUD was lit up like a christmas tree decorated with warning bells. Tony ignored them all, focusing on keeping the beam steady and preventing it from cutting all the way through the wall so that it wouldn't slice and dice the people on the other side.

"C'mon baby, that's it, little bit more ..."

His face was dotted with sweat and his heartbeat was a lot faster than he deemed healthy. The suit's power was dropping rapidly, but he'd almost cut a doorway large enough to fit through. He just had to hold out a little bit longer.

 _"Get out of the way. Move._ Move!"

On the cell-cam, he saw Romanov shoving her way through the gathered agents, Barton following close behind. As they made it to the front of the pack, Thor eyed them with a wariness that came from a respect of their abilities rather than any real concern of opposition. One large hand flexed around Mjölnir's haft but he made no move to attack.

_"Tell your people to stand aside. I do not wish them harm, but I will not be defied."_

_"Just, relax."_ Natasha held up both hands to show she was unarmed. _"We're not here to fight. We just want to talk."_

After a few murmured words from Clint, the other agents began to edge out of the doorway. Some even holstered their weapons.

Thor threw a glance back at Loki, who hadn't moved, then over Natasha's shoulder at the retreating agents. Finally, he sighed and relaxed his stance marginally.

_"Very well. Talk."_

Tony took that for the opening it was. Shutting the laser off, he backed away several long paces and took a deep breath. This was it. Last chance to change his mind. He tried to reclaim the feelings of anger and betrayal, but found only urgency and certainty in their place.

 

_I won't let anything happen to you, I promise._

_Don't make promises you cannot keep._

_I always keep my promises._

 

"Do it J."

On command, a shoulder mounted missile launched from the suit and sped the short distance to the weakened section of cell wall. The resulting explosion shook the room, dust and pieces of debris falling from the ceiling. No longer able to cling in place, the cut-out piece of wall crashed to the ground inside the cell, narrowly missing Loki who scrambled back from the impact with wide, oddly red eyes. Alarms and fire sprinklers activated overhead and through the smoke in the neat doorway he'd created, Tony could see Thor turning to assess the new threat. He had a moment to wonder how much time he had before a pack of SHIELD agents arrived to apprehend _him_ , then he was striding forwards, palm extended, ready to protect what was his.

"Okay, let's do this nice and simple."

"Stark, what is the meaning of this?" Practically growling his displeasure, Thor shifted his stance so that he could keep an eye on Tony and the SHIELD agents. Muscles rippled in his arm as he lifted Mjölnir and the smell of lightning crackled through the settling dust.

Tony flipped his visor up so Thor could see his face. "I'm here for Loki." He flicked a glance at Natasha who cleared her throat and stepped up to the plate.

"This is for the best, Thor. I understand your concerns about leaving him here, but if you take Loki you'll be cutting all ties with SHIELD. You'll be considered an enemy. If you let Tony take him -"

Thor did growl then, a low rumble like an approaching storm.

"- Temporarily! - we can all talk things over here and come to some sort of agreement. We don't have to go burning bridges over this."

"Listen to the lady big guy. This doesn't have to get ugly."

"There will be no _talks_." The air snapped with static. "Loki is coming back to Asgard with me. End of discussion. You can all stand aside, or I will go through you. The choice is yours."

Tony sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

No time to warn Natasha and Clint, but he figured they'd catch on pretty quick. Tony raised his right hand and fired a rapid succession of repulsor blasts at Thor. He knew from experience that the assault wouldn't really hurt the Asgardian - a good thing, because he still considered Thor a friend - though when he threw a quick glance at Loki and was reminded of the state he was in, well, some not-so-small part of him wouldn't have minded inflicting at least a little real damage.

"Tony!"

His eyes fixated on Natasha, just in time to see her pull the pin on a grenade.

"Shit -"

The suit's visor came down and he rushed to shelter Loki's body with his own. There was a dull _boom_ and the cell filled with thick smoke.

_Smoke bomb, nice._

There wasn't time to admire the Widow's tactics. Loki was choking on smoke but Tony grasped him by the shoulders and spoke close to his ear.

"C'mon, let's get the fuck out of here."

Rather than agree, Loki began to struggle. Sounds of protest clamoured in his throat, unable to make it past his sewn lips. Tony could barely make out his face in the smoke but those weird red eyes stood out from the rest, wide and uncomprehending. That and the pale, milky sheen over the pupil made Tony realise that not only was Loki mute, he was blind as well.

"Loki, it's me. It's Tony." Braving the smoke, he raised his visor and guided one of Loki's hands to his face. "It's alright. I'm getting you out of here."

Slim fingers traced over his cheekbone, down to his lips and bearded chin. Understanding dawned on Loki's face and he went still in Tony's grasp. His eyes closed in a moment of silent relief, a small gesture, but one that made Tony's heart thump queerly in his chest. In his mind, he could almost hear Loki's voice murmuring his name.  _Anthony ..._

"Can you walk?"

Loki nodded, and with Tony's help was soon on his feet.

There was movement and shouting around them and the smoke was beginning to clear. Even so, the visibility was poor enough that it was difficult to get a full picture of what was going on. Tony saw the room in brief snatches of comprehension - _a body hitting the wall beside him, gunshot - what kind of idiot would fire a gun in this enclosed space!? -, Thor roaring,_ _Mj_ _ölnir crackling, a disjointed voice calling for backup, the thud of flesh hitting flesh, Clint somewhere nearby muttering about finding a nice office job_ \- all piecing together within seconds of one another.

Suddenly Natasha was by his side, looking pissed as hell with blood trickling down her left temple.

"The hell are you still doing here? Go!"

"Going!" Tony took a step towards the doorway he'd made, one hand on Loki's shoulder to guide him, then glanced back. "Take care Romanov."

"You're welcome." Then she was gone, disappeared back into the fray.

Time to go. Tony guided Loki through the hole in the wall and swore harshly when he followed him through just in time to watch a dozen SHIELD agents pile into the room. The icing on the shit flavoured cake was that the squad was lead by none other than Captain America himself. Steve looked unthreatening enough in his civilian clothes, with his neatly combed hair and boyish good looks, but he had his shield on his back and Tony knew better than to underestimate him.

"Steve." He issued a wary greeting, carefully urging Loki to stand behind him. Loki tensed, and Tony was pretty sure the Asgardian knew what was going down, even without sight.

"Tony." Hands raised in the classic 'I'm unarmed, I'm not a threat' gesture, Steve slowly walked towards them. His movements were careful and precise, as though he was trying not to spook a wild animal.

"Captain -"

"Hold your position." He shot back over his shoulder when one of the agents began to question him.

Unsure what the deal was and painfully aware they were running out of time - Natasha and Clint could only keep Thor occupied for so long - Tony stood his ground and waited until Steve was close enough for them to speak without being overhead by the others.

"How does this go down Cap?"

Up close, there were tense lines around Steve's eyes and he was clearly unhappy at being put in this situation.

"Look, Tony, I'm not going to stop you. But I can't be seen helping you either, so hit me."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hit me and run for it." Steve frowned and ran a hand back through his hair. "I don't like this. I'm a soldier, I follow orders. I was ordered to stop you." He looked Tony dead in the eye and his voice lowered even further. "But you were right about the mind control weapons, and this isn't the first time Fury's pulled something like this. Maybe -" He paused again and glanced at Loki, looking like the words left a bad taste in his mouth. "Maybe you're right about him too."

At Tony's side, Loki shifted slightly - an adjustment of weight, the barest inclination of his head. The fingertips of one hand brushed Tony's wrist and he knew what Loki was trying to communicate. Cut the sentimentality. It was time to go.

"Thank you Steve. You're a good man."

"Yeah, tell that to --"

Whatever Steve had been about to say was lost in a grunt, a rush of air and a glimmer of blood from a split lip as Tony's armoured fist struck him square in the face. While he was off balance, Tony fired a short repulsor blast that sent Rogers flying across the room. He landed right in the middle of the group of agents, rather like a bowling ball hitting the neatly assembled pins. It made him feel guilty as hell, but Tony couldn't help muttering "Strike" and allowing himself a smirk. In the same breath, he aimed his hand at the ceiling and open fired. The agents scrambled as chunks of plaster began to fall, shouts rang out, weapons were drawn, and from the cell next door Tony heard a roar that would have sounded at home in any given monster movie.

_Oh shit, Banner._

Another roar bellowed out from behind them and Tony glanced back, paling at the sight of the Hulk wedged in the makeshift doorway, desperately trying to force his way through. The whole room seemed to shake. Cracks snaked across the ceiling and Tony saw Steve stumble as he gained his feet.

"Contain Banner!"

"But sir, what about --"

The cell wall began to buckle outward as the Hulk rammed against it. One huge green arm groped through the opening, grabbed hold of an agent and smashed him against the wall. Hulk roared, the agent made an odd gurgling sound as he crumpled on the floor, and all guns in the room were instantly aimed at Banner.

In the space between one moment and the next, Tony's gaze locked with the Hulk's. So different from the gentle brown eyes of his friend, but somehow, Bruce was still there. Helping him, in the only way he could.

"Thanks buddy."

Another roar, and the wall continued to crumple. The agents began firing.

Loki smacked his palm against Tony's chest plate, his meaning perfectly clear. What the hell were they still doing here?

They were several floors below ground level and it would take too long and lead to too many opportunities for opposition if they stuck to elevators and stairs. So although he knew the suit's power was running dangerously low, Tony raised a hand and fired half a dozen shots, widening the hole in the ceiling he'd already created until it was large enough to fly through.

Tony leaned in close to Loki's ear. "Hold on to me." Loki stared blankly at him a moment, then nodded and wrapped his arms around Tony's neck. Using one arm to keep Loki steady, Tony launched them upward, pausing only to blow out sections of ceiling and wall where needed, gradually carving a passage through the building to freedom. They were met with little resistance, no doubt all combat personnel had been directed by now to the prison level. Anyone else they met along the way was decidedly unequipped to take on Iron Man and were more than happy to let them pass unhindered.

Destroying the outer wall of the building would take more effort than Tony had time or power for, but thankfully SHIELD HQ was blessed with an abundance of large windows. Glass shattered and they stepped through into a cooling wind and late afternoon sunlight.

Tony scanned the area, both with his eyes and the suit's sensors. There were no choppers in the air, nor was there a furious god of Thunder anywhere to be seen, but Tony doubted either would be far away.

"Sorry, but we don't have time for graceful."

With some awkwardness - Loki was very tall! - Tony gathered him into his arms and thrust them into the air.

"JARVIS, put everything we've got into the thrusters."

" _Sir, we are currently at 6% power, I don't recommend -"_

"Kind of an emergency J! Just do it. And hit stealth mode. Don't want Fury tracking us."

Tony didn't have a destination in mind. His first priority was simply to get out of the city, away from cameras and people and the chance of being found.

 

An hour later, when several of the suit's non-essential functions were shutting down in order to stay airborne, Tony knew they had to find a place to land or they'd simply fall out of the sky. They were currently flying over a large forested area with a good sized lake off to the west. A quick scan told him there were several cabins nearby, probably owned by people who liked to vacation at the lake during summer. Hopefully, this late into autumn they would be empty.

"I think I found somewhere we can lay low for a while."

 

Slowing his speed and adjusting course, Tony aimed for the closest of the cabins.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I am SO sorry for the long wait between chapters. Writing action scenes is hard T_T   
> For those of you who're still here - thank you! ♥


	14. fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, many apologies for my lack of responses to comments on the last chapter. My brains have been super scrambled. However, I read them all, and I'm eternally grateful for all your kind words of support. This story is for you. Without you, it would have died long ago.
> 
> Secondly, omg! This is the chapter I've been simultaneously looking forward to and dreading writing. It's been in my head since the very beginning and I had to fight through a whole lot of resistance from my perfectionist nature to get the words down. I hope it came out okay. 
> 
> Oh, and sorry if you don't like long chapters, this is a big one! :p

The last of the sun's rays cast molten spangles across the lake's surface and quiet closed in around them as Tony landed a short distance from the cabin. He set Loki down carefully and held him steady until he'd regained his balance. There were no lights on inside, but Tony scanned the building twice, then a third time for good measure, to make absolutely certain it was truly empty.

Assured that, for the time being at least, no SHIELD agents were going to jump out at them, Tony touched Loki's shoulder with a murmured, 'come on', and lead him inside.

The cabin's interior was cheap by Tony's standards, but cosy in a stereotypical hunting cabin kind of way. Log walls, and empty fireplace with a basket of neatly stacked wood beside it, thick rug on the floor, artwork of horses and mountain scenes on the walls. The air was stale and the layer of dust that had settled over tables and shelves suggested no one had been there for a while. Good. Less chance of anyone walking in on them.

Tony guided Loki to a comfortably worn in couch and urged him to sit. Then, with a grimace at the 2% power warning flashing on his HUD, he moved off to the side and stepped out of his suit, leaving it in sentry mode. There wasn't enough power left for him to defend them if the need arose, but at least they'd have some warning of incoming danger. A heavy sigh rushed from his lungs as he moved quietly around the room, lighting a few lamps, and for the first time in hours, possibly days, Tony felt like he could breathe easy. Safe. For now, at least.

His attention shifted to Loki, sitting tense and silent on the couch, sightless eyes staring straight ahead while his hands twisted together in his lap. Tony's gaze took it all in; the defensive hunch of the shoulders, the blinded red eyes and the shadows beneath them, the weird blue skin, the horrifically sewn lips.

_First things first. Find something to cut that thread._

"Okay. I'm gonna find something to cut you free, so just sit tight."

A barely perceptible nod, but otherwise Loki gave no response. It hurt to see him like that. Pained and heartsick, walled up behind barriers Tony feared might never come down. Worse, was the knowledge that this was his fault. He'd promised to protect Loki. Damn fine job he'd done of it so far.

Glad for the moment that Loki couldn't see the look of guilt and grief on his face, Tony turned away and headed through the nearest doorway into a small kitchen. Working by the lamplight filtering in from the next room, Tony rummaged through various draws and cupboards, seeking anything with a sharp edge. It was a brief search, and a frustrating one. The best he could find was a knife with a blade he doubted would be able to cut cheese, and a large pair of scissors. Neither of which was suitable for cutting those disgusting stitches.

Swearing, Tony left the kitchen, of the mind to find a bathroom - perhaps he'd get lucky and find a razor blade? - when his hand bumped the hilt of the dagger still tucked safely through his belt.

"Well shit."

Relieved none of his friends, particularly Clint, had been around to see that show of stupidity, Tony made his way back to the couch with the dagger in hand.

"So, I'm an idiot. But also a genius. I brought your dagger."

At that, Loki turned to face him, and Tony thought he saw a flicker of approval cross his strained features.

"Alright."

Tony sat down beside Loki with a huff of breath and gently reached out with his free hand, turning Loki's face to better catch the light. Before he could make the first cut, Loki touched Tony's knee in a cautionary manner, the expression on his face translating his meaning without the need for words.

_Be careful._

"Don't worry. I could use a drink, but my hands shouldn't shake too much."

Loki snorted eloquently, bringing a brief smile to Tony's face before he sobered again.

"Trust me."

A brief pause, then Loki's hand slid away. He held his head steady, chin slightly raised, red eyes unseeing but so intense that Tony felt certain he must be able to perceive _something_. Then again, what part of Loki wasn't intense? Tony was stalling, and he knew it. But damn, this wasn't just removing sutures from a cut. This was magic thread, and a probably magic dagger that looked like it could cut Loki's face in half if his hand slipped.

_Just do it._

"Okay. Here we go."

\---

Loki breathed slowly through his nose as Stark's warm hand cradled his face. His touch was almost uncomfortably hot against his own cold skin but he held still, not wanting to flinch and risk having his face cut open. He felt the metallic tang of the blade against his bottom lip, then the 'snick' of the first stitch being severed.

An involuntary gasp rushed into his lungs. A delicious shiver of magic danced though his veins. His eyes closed and he felt Stark's thumb stroke his cheek gently.

"You good?"

The voice that had somehow become so dear to him was tight with concern. Loki stilled himself and nodded reassurance, aware that his breathing had quickened and his heart was beating madly in his chest.

One by one, Stark cut the stitches and with each one Loki felt more and more of his magic return. It was still kept infuriatingly out of reach by the suppression cuffs about his wrists, but it was _there_. The great, despairing emptiness was gone.

Finally, the last stitch was cut. Loki drew in a shuddering breath through his mouth and unbidden, a tear slipped from each eye and ran freely down his face. With shaking hands he plucked the loose pieces of thread from his lips, shuddering at the grotesque feeling of them dragging through flesh.

Beside him, Stark was uncharacteristically quiet. Loki heard the dull clunk of him setting the dagger down on the floor, then nothing but the quiet sound of his breathing. Needing to touch him, Loki reached out blindly, his hands finding a pair of warm, bare shoulders.

"Anthony ..."

His voice cracked and he could taste blood on his lips but none of that mattered because suddenly Stark's arms were around him, holding him tight, tighter than he'd ever been held in all his long life. A few more tears slipped free as Loki buried his face in the crook of Stark's neck.

"You came for me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't faster. I'm sorry I let them do this to you. I'm sorry -"

"It doesn't matter. You came. That means more to me than you will ever understand."

"Shit." Stark drew back a little. "You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now, but --"

Loki didn't wait to hear the rest. He took Stark's face between his hands and kissed him fiercely, drinking him in, oblivious to the small pain sounds coming from his own throat. A little pain was nothing. He was free, and Stark was here, and nothing else -

"Loki stop, you're hurt."

"I don't care."

And with that he kissed him again, and the mingled taste of blood and tears and relief on their lips created a warm ache in his chest.  
When Stark finally wrapped him in his arms once more, Loki relaxed against him, head bowed, breathing in his scent. This mortal embrace, so fragile and yet so strong. How had it come to mean so much to him? Why was it that in all the Worlds, this was where he felt the safest?

_"I won't let anything happen to you."_

_"Don't make promises you cannot keep."_

_"I always keep my promises."_

He knew the answer of course. It was because no one had ever set out to protect him like this before. Oh, Thor and his friends had defended him in battle. Frigga had cared for him. Odin too, perhaps, once, in his own way. But it wasn't the same thing. No one had ever looked him in the eye and promised to keep him safe, even if it meant putting themself in harm's way. That was the difference. A promise from a mortal man with no obligation to give away such a precious thing. It didn't matter that he might not be able to protect him from every little hurt. What mattered was that he would _try_. Safety. A home in his arms. A promise.

"Stark --"

"We should keep moving. It's only a matter of time before they find us here."

Loki wasn't sure what he'd been about to say, but he was glad when Stark interrupted. He was afraid it would have been something foolish, something he wouldn't be able to take back. Lifting his head, he ran his fingertips over the shackle circling his left wrist.

"How skilled are you at picking locks?"

"About as skilled as I am at everything else, which is extremely."

Even without the use of his eyes, Loki could hear the smug grin in Stark's voice. It pleased him, and his own lips twitched into a smirk.

"I'd hoped as much. Free me of these infernal devices and I can take us to a place no one will find."

"Oh, like a secret base?"

Loki snorted at the childlike glee that came with the question.

"Something like that."

"Say no more." The couch cushions shifted and Loki felt the sudden lack of warmth as Stark stood up and moved away. "Hold tight babe, I'll have you free in no time."

 

'No time' turned out to be a good hour or so as Stark prowled the cabin for suitable lock picking tools then returned to actually complete the task. As far as locks went, the ones on the cuffs weren't terribly complicated. Most locks on Asgard were composed of both physical and magical components which made navigating them a tricky business. But since the cuffs were made for the purpose of blocking the use of magic, they could only be secured physically. A flaw in design if Loki ever saw one, but he wasn't about to complain now.  
So although the locks were stubborn, they weren't impossible to pick and true to his word, Stark eventually had both cuffs open and cast aside.

Freed magic danced like static electricity over Loki's skin, sending delicious shivers through his body. It rushed through his blood, along his nerves, over the expanse of his skin, from his scalp to the tips of his hair. Sliding his hands free of Stark's grasp he rose, needing movement.

"You okay?"

"More than okay." Loki stalked the room, careful to feel his way and not blunder into some unseen piece of furniture. "It feels ..." _Intoxicating!_ "... Like I can breathe again. Like I have been dead and brought back to life."

"That's good. I'm glad."

The strange note in Stark's voice brought Loki to a standstill. He slowly turned back towards the couch, blood thrumming with magic, heart pounding in his chest.

"Stark,"

"No, let me say this." Stark's voice was strangled, as though he had to force every word. "If you need to disappear now, I get it. This mind control shit, Thor acting all crazy, it's dangerous for you here. If either side gets their hands on you again, they're not gonna let go. And even if we run and go to this secret base of yours, well, you know what they say about not being able to hide forever. Eventually someone'll find us. And I feel like with me tagging along, well, I'll only slow you down, so --"

"Stark,"

"It's okay. I'll figure something out. Find a way to throw them off your trail, but you should -"

"Stark!" Stunned silence. "Are you quite done?"

More silence that might have been filled by a nod, then came a hasty, "Yes sir".

"Good. Now. You are not leaving me. Understand? I'm --" ... _Yours ..._ "You're mine. And I am not letting you go."

_Please, Norns, please don't let him leave._

"But --"

_Don't let him know how weak you are right now. Don't let him know how much you need him._

"Did anything I just said sound like you have a choice in the matter?"

"Uh, no."

"Well then, it seems the matter is settled."

A short, relieved laugh. "Got it boss."

Loki forced himself to smirk and did his best not to acknowledge how weak in the knees he'd become. Allowing himself to become this attached to a mortal was foolish beyond measure, but there was no denying that attachment. This wasn't a game anymore. This was the real thing. Disturbing thoughts, best left for a later time.

"Good. Now get back in your armour."

"It's almost out of power, won't do us much good."

"That doesn't matter. Unless you want to leave it here for your SHIELD to find?"

"Right, point taken. But how are we --"

A pointed glance from Loki made Stark shut his mouth and get on his feet. Loki plucked the dagger and cuffs from the ground and vanished them, then followed the sounds of whirring machinery to where Stark was now fully encased in his suit of armour. He placed a hand on Stark's shoulder and couldn't suppress the delightful shiver as a thrill of magic rushed green and cool through his body. There was the usual strange feeling of flying without movement that came with teleportation, then the dry, musty smell of the cabin faded to be replaced by the scent of grass, trees, water and fresh air. A warm breeze caressed his skin and he could feel the wide expanse of open sky above him. From somewhere nearby came the thundering sound of a waterfall, and from much closer, Stark's muttered exclamation of;

"Jesus. H. Christ."

Loki smiled and slapped the suit's chest plate affectionately.

"Welcome to Franang's Falls."

\---

"I am by no means an expert on geography," Tony couldn't look at Loki as he stepped out of the suit. He couldn't even give the appropriate attention to his first experience of teleportation. There was just too much else to see!  Every leaf, every water droplet, blade of grass, rock, sunbeam, was pristine. Untouched by man, so vibrant and _real_ , they almost seemed to emit their own subtle glow, like they were each made up of millions of tiny particles of coloured light. Memories of the rest of the world seemed dull and lifeless by comparison.

"But I'm sure I've never heard of this place before."

Were they dead? Was this Heaven?

"You wouldn't have." Loki smirked, but behind the smug expression he seemed pleased. "Every Realm has its secrets, its hidden places that only the few are ever privileged to see. This is one of Midgard's."

"How did you find it?" As he spoke, Tony turned to face him, just in time to see Loki's face fall.

"My mother showed me." He glanced skyward, seeking something that wasn't there. "Long ago."

Tony hesitated. The topic of Loki's mother was obviously a sore spot, but he had to know.

"Are you sure Thor won't find us here? If she showed you, your mom probably --"

"No, she wouldn't have." Loki sighed and lowered his gaze, keeping his face turned away from Tony. "Mother ... Understood me, in a way my father and Thor never did. She nurtured my love of books, taught me magic and secrets ... Some of my earliest memories are of sitting in her lap as a child, touching the pages of some ancient tome while she read to me. Spells, histories, legends, protocol, tales of distant worlds ... It didn't matter. I loved it all, loved being with her and hearing her voice."

Tony shifted his weight slightly, feeling awkward and afraid to move or make a sound that might break Loki from his reverie. The god so rarely opened up like this, he didn't want to spoil it.

"When I was older, I used to train at swordplay with Thor and the other children of noble birth. It was never my strong point. The others would laugh and call me weak, and even when I was beaten, the instructors would let the matches go on for just that little bit longer than necessary before calling them off. Mother always told me not to take it to heart, that I was built for speed and agility rather than brute strength. But she knew that it hurt, and she dried my tears more times than I care to count. She knew I didn't fit in. As hard as she tried to make it so, a mother's love can only do so much."

Loki paused and shook his head slightly, as though to chase away the old memories. When he spoke again, his voice was roughened at the edges and he wrapped his arms around himself. Tony badly wanted to hold him, but he remained still. Loki wasn't finished yet.

"She gave me this place. Somewhere to go when I needed to be alone. A place mocking laughter couldn't follow, where not even Odin from his throne or Heimdall's all seeing gaze could find me. A place of my own. So no," Finally, his blind eyes drifted to Tony's face. "Thor won't find us here."

Not sure what else to say, Tony reached out and gently touched Loki's shoulder, "Your mother sounds like a great woman."

"She was."

"Was?"

"She died. Was killed, actually. By the same monster that stabbed me." Loki's voice was stripped of all emotion.

"Shit ... Loki, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Loki shook his head and moved out of reach of Tony's hand, turning his back on him and hunching his shoulders.

Inwardly, Tony swore. Trust him to prod at the subject of the recently dead mother. He knew from experience that pain was like no other. There was nothing he could say or do to make it go away, and the very real chance that he might just make things worse.  
Important seconds ticked by as he debated with himself over what to do. Hug Loki and keep his mouth shut? Ramble a bunch of meaningless but hopefully comforting words? Give him some time alone? Shit, emotions were hard ...

"It was my fault."

The words were punctuated by a choked sob that made Loki's shoulders tremble. That did it. Tony strode forward and wrapped his arms around Loki from behind, pulling him back against his chest.

"No it wasn't."

"You weren't there!" With shocking strength, Loki wrenched himself away, and when he turned to face Tony there were tears on his blue cheeks. "I told that _thing_ where to go! How to avoid the guards!"

The raw despair in his voice made Tony's chest ache.

"It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known what it would do."

"Couldn't I?" Loki made a sound that was part sob, part hysterical laugh. "I knew it meant to do harm. It was in the dungeon for a reason."

"You didn't know. It wasn't your fault." Keeping his voice low, Tony tried to embrace the distraught god again, but was roughly pushed away.

"Don't touch me! Don't feel sorry for me. I am what they say I am. A criminal. A villain. A monster ..."

"You're not a monster!" By now Tony's own eyes were tearing up. So much hurt ... How could a person live with that much hurt and self loathing inside them? He seemed a dim shadow of his former self. All colour scorched away, tainted and blackened like tarnished silver.

" _Look at me!_ " Arms held wide, Loki screamed at him. "Look at me, recall the things I've done, and tell me you don't see a monster!"

Tony felt sick.

_Say the wrong thing now, and you'll lose him forever._

He had to force his voice out of this throat and past his lips. It came out strangled, every word an effort, each sound a unique possibility for ultimate failure.

"I see a man who has been carrying a lot of hurt for a very long time. A man who has been knocked down and told to _stay down_ too more often than he can count, yet still finds the strength to stand and continue to challenge the world. A man full of pride and the need to survive, because damn everyone who ever laughed at him, he is _here_ , and he is _someone_ , and he will _be here_ long after they've all turned to dust."

As he spoke he carefully moved closer until he was just beyond arm's reach.

"I see the man who claimed me as his own, and for the first time in my life that isn't something I want to run from."

Another step. This close he could see the fine tremors that ran over Loki's skin, the small, needlepoint wounds in his lips, the frantic movements of his blind eyes. Ever so slowly, he slid his arms around Loki's slender chest.

"I see the man I swore to protect from anything that tried to hurt him. Even himself."

"No!"

When Loki began to struggle, Tony grimly held on. The god's heart clearly wasn't in it this time, because eventually Tony managed to wrestle him to the ground, and there he held him tightly in his arms while Loki cried.

"I see _you_." He murmured, gently stroking his hair. "No monster, just you." A gentle kiss pressed to the top of his head. "What happened to your mother wasn't your fault. Wasn't anybody's fault." Tony paused and took a deep breath. "When my parents died, I played the blame game as well. It was my dad's fault for not paying attention while driving, for being tired, for being drunk. It was the other driver's fault. The car mechanic, the shitty signage on the road, the weather ... It was my fault for being a bad son." For a moment his heart twisted in his chest. "The list went on. Took me a long time to realise it, but it was no one's fault. It was just one of those horrible things life throws at us. And the only thing we can do is keep going, and try to be the kind of person those we've lost would be proud of."

Would his parents be proud of the man he'd become? It was a thought that bothered him from time to time, most often during that annual drunken night in december. Usually, he couldn't find an answer. Right now, he hoped the answer would be yes.

After a long period of silence, Loki stirred in his arms and sat up. He wiped the tears from his cheeks and dragged the tangled strands of hair out of his face, his blind eyes somehow managing to find Tony's gaze and hold it.

"For a mortal, you are surprisingly wise, Tony Stark."

Relief filled him, and a sad smile curved his lips.

"Yeah, perks of being a genius."

Loki gave an elegant snort but still looked troubled, and Tony was taken by the urge to touch his face and gently smooth the frown from his brow. With a sigh, Loki closed his eyes and leaned into Tony's hand, letting him cradle his face. It felt rather like he'd just tamed a wild animal, like some frantic jungle cat had finally realised he meant it no harm and had let down its defences enough to relax.

"I am sorry I let you see me like that. This was the first time I've spoken of her since ..." Another sigh. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

At that, Loki lifted his head, and even blind his stare was unnervingly direct. Tony swallowed and forged ahead.

"I'm glad you trust me enough to talk to me. I want to know you, Loki. All of you."

A beat of silence, then the hint of a smile touched Loki's lips.

"And here I was thinking you just liked it when I fuck you."

Tony laughed;

"Well, there is that." His voice sobered, but the warmth within it remained. "But there's also a whole lot more."

With a shaky smile, Loki sniffed and wiped his eyes again.

"I think my mother would have liked you."

Taking that for the deep compliment it was, Tony looked up as Loki rose from the ground.

"Where're you going?"

The worry must have been audible in his voice because Loki paused and glanced back at him, a small smile on his lips.

"Don't worry, I have no plans to do anything foolish. I just need to clear my head." He sniffed and pulled a face. "And bathe."

That last comment brought a chuckle to Tony's lips. Now that he thought about it, he had noticed a slight odour, but considering all that had happened, it had been the last thing on his mind. He watched Loki walk away, his movements slow and careful, feeling his way. When he was almost out of earshot, Tony called out to him;

"Hey Loki!"

The god paused and looked back, giving no response, but waiting.

"I didn't mean what I said back at the cabin. About you leaving. I just ... I had to say it. In case it was what you wanted. But I don't want you to leave."

For a long time Loki didn't reply. He just stood there, the breeze making his hair flutter about his face. Finally, he smiled.

"I'm not going anywhere, Stark."

\---

Loki made his way to the base of the waterfall, following it's roar until he was close enough to feel the misty spray on his face. There, he stripped off his pants, picked his way carefully over the rocks and plunged into the icy cold water. The initial chill of it made him gasp, but thanks to his Jötunn heritage, his body almost instantly acclimatised and the cold bothered him no more.

He was surprised Stark hadn't yet asked him about the change in his appearance. The man had more tact than Loki had given him credit for. Then again, the subject hadn't exactly come up, and many other things had been clamouring for their attention.

It shamed him that Stark had been witness to his emotional breakdown. He hadn't lost control of himself like that - at least during waking hours - since Thanos. And yet, in the same way his nightmare had drawn them together many weeks ago, today's events made him feel closer to Stark. Like his weakness had somehow woven threads between them that made them stronger as a whole. Such a thing shouldn't be possible. Weakness was weakness. There was no way strength could be born of it. And even so, here he was, feeling fragile but reinforced from within, bolstered by the knowledge that he could bare his soul to this man and not be judged for it. That he could drop all his facades and simply be himself. He laughed at the very ridiculousness of the whole thing.

 

When he felt sure every inch of his skin and hair had been cleansed of that foul SHIELD cell and the things that had been done to him there, Loki climbed out of the water and found a flat rock to sit on while the wind dried him.

The first thing he had to do was replace the illusion spell that concealed his true form. A simple spell, one that had come to him easily since infancy, but he hesitated a moment, recalling how Stark hadn't recoiled in disgust at his blue skin and red eyes. He smiled to himself and cast the spell, delighting in the tingle of magic as it rolled over his body. Something to remember for later, perhaps, for private places when the masks required for everyday life need not be so carefully maintained.

The second spell he needed to cast, the one that would return his vision, was decidedly more complex. It was built from the basics of a common healing spell used to enhance failing senses, rather like a pair of glasses or a hearing aid would be used here on Midgard. Loki had taken that basic core spell and braided it with threads of others - rapid regeneration, illusions, farsight - until he'd come up with a dazzling hybrid of a spell that could convince his ruined eyes to see. He hoped that given enough time, his eyes would fully heal and he would no longer need the spell, but for now, it was a necessity.

Once in place it needed little tending to remain active, but the initial casting was difficult and required his full concentration. The first time had been fuelled by need - Thanos had no use for a blind servant. If Loki was to prove himself useful and thus be given the chance to put some distance between himself and the mad Titan, then he _had_ to repair his eyes.

Right now, there was no immediate danger, and Loki's mind refused to focus. It kept sliding back in time, taking him back to a place he'd give anything to forget. For the most part, in the years since then, he'd done a good job of not thinking of that place. But now, faced with the task of repairing his eyes for the second time, he couldn't help it. He was back there, living it all over again ...

 

 

_Loki lay spreadeagle on his back, stretched out over sharp rocks, his wrists and ankles bound by spelled chains. A thick leather collar circled his neck, making it impossible to move his head. He was naked, his pale, malnourished body covered in a grisly mosaic of cuts, burns and bruises. If he rolled his eyes just so, he could see the white chunk of bone protruding from his broken arm._

_Behind him rose a tree. Its long-dead roots still covered the cave floor and surrounded his rocky altar, while its petrified lower branches reached overhead with grasping stone fingers. The rest of the tree rose to unseen heights  lost to the darkness._

_He_ _couldn't see anyone - the cave was filled with living shadows that taunted and obscured his vision, but he knew they were there. Watching. Waiting for him to beg, to cry, to scream. Perhaps he would have done all three, had he been able to. But all that was beyond him. He had fought, and he had lost. He was broken. Thanos knew that, had known it for a long time now. Still he persisted with these horrors. Not because he needed to. No, Thanos did it simply because he wanted to, and because he could. There was no one who could stand against him and come out whole on the other side. The best one could hope for was death._

_Loki had been denied that death for a long time. Perhaps this would be the day it finally came for him._

_Movement above, something more than just dancing shadow caught his attention. He tracked it with his eyes as it slid through the branches of the tree, understanding dawning on him as it came closer, hanging over his face, yellow eyes cold and emotionless. A snake, it's body as thick as Loki's thigh, its scales a sickly mottled green in the halflight._

_Loki trembled as the snake swayed above him, its forked tongue tickling his eyelashes as it flickered out to taste the air. He held his breath, trying to remain still and appear uninteresting to the serpent. His heart pounded in his frail chest, each beat an enormous hammer that fell upon his body, rattling his broken bones, splitting open his wounds, tearing him to pieces._

_The snake drew back fractionally, and Loki gave himself a moment to hope that it might leave him be. Then, as if waiting for that exact moment, its jaws opened wide, revealing wicked fangs dripping with venom. Loki struggled helplessly, whimpering at the pain his movements caused. There was no escaping his fate. Venom splashed onto his face, acidic and vile. It burned through his eyelids in seconds, and then there was nothing to protect his sensitive eyes._

_Loki had thought himself incapable of screaming. He was wrong._

 

 

He came back to himself with a strangled cry, scrubbing at his eyes, trembling violently as the memories scurried away into the darkness of his mind. His lungs burned and he realised he'd been holding his breath.

"Norns preserve me ..."

A deep breath, then a long exhale as he dragged his fingers through mostly dry hair. Hours had passed. When he opened his eyes, the sun was low and dark bellied clouds massed overhead, rimmed in gold and red. Deep crimson light reflected off the mountain peaks and created tiny motes of glitter in the spray of the waterfall.

He could see.

A startled laugh bubbled to his lips. Well. That was a method of spellcasting he wouldn't care to try again, but he had to admit, it was effective. Rising stiff legged from the rock where he'd been sitting immobile for so long, Loki allowed himself a quiet moment of thankfulness. He'd been foolish. Careless. In his need to conceal weakness and prove himself untouchable, he'd almost lost everything. He couldn't allow that to happen again. No more games.

 

\---

 

Tony's own snoring woke him, startling him so much that his head crashed back against the cave wall, hard enough to make him see stars.

"Oh fuuuuuck! Mother fucking shit sucking disease ridden son of a crusty goat fucking whore!"

Holding his head in his hands and leaning forward over his knees, Tony let loose a stream of expletives until the sharp pain dulled to a bearable ache. After checking his fingers for blood in the dim light, he staggered to his feet and looked around.

What was he doing in a fucking cave? Oh, right. After Loki had wandered off earlier, Tony had decided to go exploring. Franang's Falls turned out to be a relatively small area. He couldn't walk much more than a mile in any direction before meeting sheer vertical cliff faces. In fact, the entire valley was surrounded by them, the rock smooth and purplish in colour with a glass-like shine when the sunlight caught it the right way. He was far from an expert in magic, but he suspected the mountains were the key to keeping this place hidden from unwelcome visitors.

During his explorations, Tony found a cave which he decided would be a good place to spend the night. So he'd used up the rest of the suit's power walking it over there, then set about gathering firewood. With all that taken care of and still no sign of Loki returning, Tony had sat himself down on the sandy floor of the cave, back propped against a wall, of the mind to just close his eyes for a few minutes. As it always does, a few minutes turned into a few hours, and now here he was, nursing a headache and wondering where the hell Loki had gotten to.

"Hey Lokes?" Moving to the mouth of the cave, Tony called out into the wilderness. "Loki!"

No response. Crap. Had he blindly wandered into a ditch and broken his neck? Throwing a worried glance at the setting sun -  Tony was by no means confident of his ability to navigate a secret magical forest by darkness - Tony set out to find his lost god.

 

 

 

He found him not far from the small lake at the base of the waterfall, standing in shin high grass, head tilted back, gazing at the sky. It had begun to rain by then, a steady beat of raindrops that fell onto Loki's upturned face, ran down his neck and made wet trails down the lean, pale length of his naked body. The valley was lit with the last glow of the setting sun, gilding Loki's skin, making him look like something otherworldly and untouchable.

It seemed a shame to interrupt him; he looked peaceful, more so than Tony had ever seen him. But Loki must have heard his approach, for he turned and smiled at him, familiar green eyes bruised, but clear.

"Well. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

Tony choked on a laugh and some of the strange magic of the moment was broken. Loki was just Loki again. Beautiful, sure, but real.

"I'm sorry, did you just use a line on me?"

The grin Loki flashed him confirmed it, and Tony found himself grinning stupidly in response.

"Cheesy, but I'll take it."

He strode forward, closing the short distance between them. There, he raised hand, grin fading as he gently traced the soft skin around Loki's right eye with his fingertips.

"You're back." Softly spoken, his thumb smoothing over the elegant arch of a brow.

"I am back."

"Are you alright?"

"Well enough."

"I was worried about you."

They both knew he wasn't just talking about the outburst at Franang's Falls.

"I know." Loki hesitated, his eyes slipping briefly off to the side before he frowned and met Tony's gaze once more. "Stark, the things I said while in captivity. The things about you. I know you heard them, and I --"

"I understand."

He didn't need to hear Loki apologise. Didn't really _want_ to. Strange, but true. Usually he loved hearing other people admit to their wrong doings, but Loki was different. He was the kind of person who did things without apology. It was who he was, _what_ he was. A kind of living 'fuck you' to the universe. Tony knew why he'd said those things to Fury, so he didn't need to hear him say sorry for it.

"No, you don't understand. Some of it was true." Loki stepped back a pace, breaking contact with him. "When you agreed to let me remain at the tower while I was recovering, I _did_ plan to use you. I set out to seduce you. I thought, if I had one Avenger on my side, he would rally the others if Thanos came for me while I was wounded. Or at the very least, protect me from the others if they learned of my presence on Midgard."

The words came to him as though from somewhere very far away. He heard them, but they were distant, hard to hold on to. He felt like he should be clinging to them, waving them in his heart's face and yelling _'See! I told you!'_ , but he just let them pass by, dry leaves on the wind.

"So when did the plan change?" His voice remained even, a slight frown the only expression on his face. " _Did_ the plan change?"

"Of course it changed! Do you truly believe I would still be here if it had not?" By comparison, Loki's voice was full of emotion, his face earnest and rain soaked. " _You_ changed it. By not being the man I expected. You allowed me to stay in your home, shared meals with me, watched over me and stood guard against nightmares while I slept. You promised to protect me. Not because of anything I had done, but because you cared. And I ..."

Loki shook his head and licked raindrops from his lips. He looked like a drowned rat and Tony wanted to go to him, but he held his ground, waiting.

"... I became caught in the truth of my own lies."

"What're you trying to say, exactly?"

"What I am saying, is, no more games." With more grace than any man had a right to possess, Loki sank to his knees. "No more lies. I claimed you for my own, but the truth is, I have been yours all along."

Between the pouring rain and the beating of his own heart, Tony could barely hear Loki's voice. The whole scenario seemed unreal, like he'd stepped into a dreamscape. He knew he should be angry at this confession. He'd been right all along -  Loki _had_ tried to manipulate him for his own benefit. The anger just wouldn't come, flames fizzled out before they even had a chance to ignite. So what if Loki had planned to use him as a shield against Thanos? The guy was obviously bad news, if he'd come to Earth the Avengers would have stepped up to the plate anyway. And so what if Loki had set out to seduce him from the very beginning? It certainly wasn't the first time that had happened in his life, and Tony hadn't exactly been an unwilling participant in what had transpired between them.

Loki's confession didn't change anything. In fact, it made Tony respect him all the more, because he knew it couldn't have been easy for a man attributed with lies above all else, to speak such difficult truth.

"You're mine and I'm yours. That's how these things usually work, isn't it?"

A single step forward had him standing directly in front of Loki. Strong fingers slid through tangled black hair and coiled it around them, tilting Loki's face up towards him.

Loki's surprised chuckle shifted into a lopsided smile that took years of pain from his face. "So I am told."

Tony bent down and Loki raised himself up on his knees until their lips were mere inches apart.

"What would you have of me?" Tony murmured, purposely echoing Loki's words from their first time together.

That detail was not lost on Loki. He chuckled low in his throat and slid his hand up Tony's calf, fingers clinging to the wet denim of his jeans at the back of his knee.

"I would have all of you." He tilted his head up a little further so that his lips brushed Tony's with the tiniest of caresses as he spoke. "Your hands on my body. Your breath on my skin. Your tongue in my mouth and your cock deep inside me."

An inarticulate groan found its way from Tony's throat and then he was kissing him, hand firmly tangled in his hair to hold him still. Loki gave himself over completely, opening his mouth and welcoming Tony's tongue with his own. From knees to head his body was stretched taut, spine curved, one hand gripping the back of Tony's thigh while the other hovered in the air as though he didn't quite know what to do with it. Tony grabbed that hand with his own and linked their fingers together, holding on as though he never meant to let go.

When he broke the kiss to give them both a chance to breathe, Tony bit down on Loki's bottom lip and tugged on it lightly. He heard Loki's hiss of pain, tasted the slight metallic tang of blood and recoiled, horrified at himself when he remembered what had been done to him.

"I'm so sorry, I --"

Loki just shook his head and licked the spot of blood away. "Again. Harder."

Reluctant but powerless to deny him anything, Tony did as commanded, and the sounds Loki made in response were pure debauchery.

Soon, he felt Loki tugging his hand out of his grasp, then two sets of deft fingers were at his belt, navigating the buckle with ease before doing the same with the fastenings of his jeans. His cock was already hard when Loki took it in his hand and squeezed gently. Tony gazed down at him, breathing fast, the little voice in his head wondering if there was a word to describe how it felt to have a naked god on his knees before him, utterly submissive and eager to please. And _ohhhhhh_ there was nothing submissive about the mouth that just swallowed him whole.

Tony groaned aloud and his head fell back, raindrops splashing on his upturned face. Loki's hands went to the back of his thighs, holding him steady. His mouth was so hot and wet, his tongue skilled, his lips soft and firm at the same time, and so insistent. Hands moved upwards to his ass, caressing, squeezing, spreading his cheeks so that one clever finger could find its way to his hole and gently tease. His cock pulsed and his hips bucked, and he knew if Loki kept this up he wasn't going to last.

"Lokes," A breathy gasp, "if you really want me to ... unngh ... to fuck you, go easy on an old man. I don't think I can - _ohhhh that's good_ ... Fuck I can't believe I'm saying this - stop. Loki please, I can't ..."

Appearing extremely pleased with himself, Loki drew back and gazed up at him with a distinctly feline smirk.

"As tempting as it is to make you come undone here and now," He nuzzled his cheek against Tony's cock and gave it a parting lick. "I am a selfish and impatient man, and I do not wish to wait to have you. I want you Anthony. All of you inside all of me. I want to feel you stretching me, filling me with your delicious cock. I want you to lay claim to my body and when you are done, to feel you spill yourself inside me."

Tony groaned and reached down to take Loki's jaw in his hand, sliding his thumb over his bottom lip and into his mouth. Loki sucked on his thumb with the same enthusiasm he'd shown his cock minutes earlier, and even that was too much for Tony to take. Knowing Loki had intended that exact response, Tony withdrew his hand and curled it into a loose fist against his chest.

"You are obscene." A slight smirk touched the corners of his lips.

"Would you have me any other way?"

"Absolutely not." Tony lifted his chin, gazing down his nose at the kneeling god before him. "Lie down."

While Loki obeyed, Tony finished removing his jeans, peeling the clinging wet fabric off his legs and tossing them away. When his eyes returned to Loki, they found him stretched out on his back, hands folded on his belly, legs stretched out before him with one knee slightly bent. Vivid green eyes watched Tony's every move, and as he drew closer, Loki's long legs shifted and spread apart, opening himself in silent invitation.

"Uh uh." Admonishing, Tony dropped to his knees and urged Loki to close his legs before straddling his hips, taking extra care not to touch his straining cock. "I haven't even begun with you yet."

Loki made a disappointed sound but didn't resist when Tony took his wrists in hand and lifted them apart, pressing them against the ground either side of his head. Gazing down at him, Tony was struck with awe at just how gorgeous Loki really was. With his hair wet and slicked back from his face, there was nothing to distract, nothing to soften those sharp cheek bones or lessen the intensity of his eyes. He was flawless and wonderful and _his._

"God, you're beautiful."

When he kissed him it was soft and gentle, a caress of lips and tongue that made Loki's eyes flicker closed and his arms relax under Tony's hands. He sighed into Tony's mouth, a soft sound of pleasure that produced a wonderful, fluttery feeling inside Tony's heart.

"That's it," He murmured, shifting his attentions to the corner of Loki's lips, to his jaw, and down to his throat. "Let me hear your voice. I love the sounds you make when I touch you." His tongue swept over his Adam's apple before his teeth closed down around it, applying just enough pressure to make Loki squirm and moan, long and loud. "Mmm so fucking sexy."

Beneath him, he could feel Loki moving, shifting his hips, trying to gain some kind of contact with his thus far untouched groin. His wrists tensed up again and Tony knew that if he truly wanted to, Loki could throw him off without any effort. The fact that he allowed himself to remain restrained , to let Tony do as he pleased with him was so fucking erotic that Tony almost gave up the game and fucked him right then and there.

"I'm going to make you feel _so good_." He bit down on Loki's lip until he cried out, then licked it slowly, tasting blood once again. "By the time I'm done with you, I'll have you writhing beneath me." He rubbed his bristled cheek against Loki's smooth one and his tongue darted out to lick his earlobe. "I'm going to make you sweat." Another lick. "And moan." He let his hips drop down fractionally, just enough that his cock briefly rubbed against Loki's. "And _beg_ before I'm done." Loki's wanton groan punctuated his words, and his hands lifted off the ground a moment before Tony pushed them back down. "Stay."

Loki groaned again and opened his eyes. "Stark, please."

"Stay." Firm. No room for argument.

"Ungh!" Loki's gaze shifted skyward and his feet slid on the wet grass.

Satisfied that he'd do as he'd been told, Tony released him, letting his fingers glide down his inner forearms until he reached his elbows, then over the lean muscles of his biceps. When he reached his shoulders, Tony sat up and smoothed his palms down Loki's chest to his nipples. A rumbling groan came from deep within Loki's chest, and Tony rewarded him with a stroke of his fingers that made him arch up into his touch.

He liked Loki's chest. It was smooth and pale, muscles lean and well defined, nipples pink and hard and perfect for rolling between his finger and thumb. The only mark on it was the scar that came from the wound that had brought them together and that too was fading, barely visible now in the dying light. Tony stroked it reverently with his fingertips, feeling the difference between it and the surrounding healthy skin. Loki shivered under his touch, able to feel the spot, but clearly no longer in any pain.

With deft movements, he shifted position, climbing off Loki's body and slipping between his legs, guiding them apart with hands on his knees. Loki opened eagerly for him, gazing down the length of his body with hungry eyes. His erection was long and flushed with need, and Tony took pity on him with a slow stroke of his hand. Loki moaned for him and thrust into his palm.

" _Anthony._ "

There was something about hearing his name called that way that made him feel close to losing control. He lifted one of Loki's legs over his shoulder, ducked his head and licked his inner thigh, delighting in the fine muscle tremors he could feel under his tongue. Loki's leg flexed, his heel digging into Tony's back, urging him closer. What else could Tony do but oblige him? He licked his thigh again, this time closer to the crease of his groin while his fingers whispered over his balls, making Loki jerk and cry out.

"Mmm, that's what you want, is it?"

Tony turned his head and lightly ran his tongue over that delicate skin. Loki answered him in a strangled voice, speaking in a language Tony didn't recognise but assumed must be Asgardian. He chuckled and caressed Loki's shaft with his lips, figuring that if he was making the god slip back to his mother tongue, he must be doing something right.

"English, Lokes."

A wordless groan was his only reply. Loki's heel was in constant movement against Tony's back as he writhed, his other foot sliding in the grass, hips thrusting, chest heaving. At some point when Tony hadn't been paying attention Loki had moved his hands and they now lay at his sides, fingers digging into the soft earth.

Enough was enough. Tony himself was aching for release and Loki looked like he might explode if he wasn't given some relief soon. His probing finger had just found Loki's hole when the realisation hit him - they didn't have any lube.

Damnit all to hell and back! Tony cast his eyes about as though he might magically find a tube lying there ready for him. Nothing. Wait!

"Loki!"

"Anthony please, I need you."

"Do your little magic trick and conjure us some lube!"

" _Please._ Fuck me. Fuck me Anthony, please ..."

"Loki! Lube!"

Loki blinked up at him and understanding dawned on his face. A static tingle shivered over Tony's body and on the grass by Loki's hand a small, ornate glass bottle materialised. Tony wasted no time uncapping it and coating his fingers with oil.

"Okay Lokes. Easy now."

Loki seemed to melt as Tony slowly slid his first finger inside him. His whole body relaxed and he breathed a long, satisfied sigh.

"Oh yes, that's good ..." The leg draped over Tony's shoulder flexed, as though to pull him closer, deeper. "More ..."

One by one, Tony added more fingers while Loki moaned and murmured encouragement. His body writhed slowly under Tony's touch, eyes closed, breath coming quickly through parted lips. When Tony felt sure he was ready, he let Loki's leg slide down off his shoulder and covered his aching cock with a generous amount of oil.

He slid smoothly into Loki's body in one fluid motion, the sensation of it drawing a ragged groan to his lips. It was similar to being with a woman, but different. Tighter, hotter. And no woman had ever looked up at him with eyes like that. Eyes to lose himself in. Eyes to be consumed by. Braced on his arms, he gazed down at Loki and knew he was home.

"Are you alright?" He shifted his hips experimentally, watching pleasure flicker across Loki's face.

"Never better." Using his arms to support him, Loki raised himself up high enough to lick Tony's lips. "Now fuck me."

Tony wasn't sure where the growl that rumbled out of his chest came from, but he embraced it all the same. It fused with Loki's command, prompted him to _move_. Slowly at first then faster, harder, dark eyes remaining locked with Loki's vivid green ones the entire time. Harsh breaths mingled in the space between them. Sweat dripped from Tony's chest and landed on Loki's own slick flesh. Raindrops drummed down on his back. He felt Loki's body clenching around him, saw the urgency in his eyes and the way his lips parted.

"Anthony -"

"That's it. Let go. Come for me." Tony panted, trying not to let his rhythm falter.

Loki's breath became ragged but he held on, fighting release.

"You're mine, Loki. You'll always be mine." He shifted his angle slightly and was rewarded with a shuddering cry. "Come for me."

That was Loki's undoing. He cried out again and his body clenched, squeezing Tony, drawing him deeper, legs coming up to wrap around Tony's waist. One more thrust, two, and he spilled over his belly, rigid body going limp as he gasped for breath. And not for one second did he break eye contact. It was intensely intimate, unlike anything Tony had ever experienced.

" _Mine_." Loki's voice was practically a purr as he reached up and drew Tony down for a kiss.

Tony lost himself in that kiss. With Loki's body still pulsing around him, his tongue gently caressing his own and his voice echoing in his ears, Tony came, filling Loki with his seed while the god's satisfied sigh filled his mouth.

"Always."

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Franang's Falls was taken from Marvel's 'The Trials of Loki' comic and altered for my own use.  
> Artwork done by yours truly. 
> 
> ♥


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